“Rose, please, just this last time?” Sam begged his wife, who was having a hard time letting him leave to see how the fair Lady’s gift was continuing to work.

“Alright. Just, mind you, be careful on that pony of yours, that he doesn’t spook.”

“Ah, Bill wouldn’t hurt a fly never,” he replied, taking the reigns. “He’s not goin’ t’ spook; he’s tough. Made it home through all them orcs, didn’t ya?” Bill nickered. Despite his master’s beliefs, he had not faced orcs on his way to Bree from Moria. In fact, he had taken a rode that many did not know of.

“I know, but –” Rose sighed. “Just be careful that those ruffians don’t get you.”

Rose looked away, and Sam pulled her chin up. “Don’t you worry none,” he said before kissing her passionately and mounting his faithful pony.

“Good-bye, my love.” Rose waved and went inside as she shivered. She was worried for Sam not only for the reasons stated but because it felt as though a snowstorm was on its way. She only hoped he would return before it hit.

Sam continued on his way to Buckland. He had been on his way for a few days at a slow pace, but today was going even slower as Bill was hesitating quite frequently and trying to turn back. “Easy, Bill; easy.” Sam shivered as a cold gust of wind rushed past his body and stung his face like a thousand knives. Sam allowed Bill to stop as he listened. No crickets sang off in the fading grass as other hobbits tried to sleep. ‘Odd,’ he thought, as he gently kicked Bill’s side.

The countryside was yet beautiful even though autumn had set in a few months ago. The golden leaves decorated the soft ground around the trees from whence they fell, glistening in the pale moonlight. The flowers had lost their petals, yet the sight of the browning colors made the rider smile. Even after all this time, the Lady’s gift gave radiance and beauty to the dying things planted in her soil. Somehow it seemed timeless.

Another gust of wind and the leaves and petals swriled thourhg the air. Raindrops began to fall to the ground. “Make haste, Bill. We have t’ reach Buckland b’fore the storm hits.” Bill sped up but not as much as was needed for them to reach the city in time.

Almost as fast as the rain had come, billowy, fluffy diamonds began to fall and the wind began to howl fiercely. Bill stepped back, unsure where to go. “Come on, Bill. Keep goin’. The more time we take, the higher the chances of us freezin’ t’ death.”

A strong gust of wind howled sharply through the air, and Bill spooked, rearing back. He took off as though a host of orcs were pursuing him from behind, leaving his unconscious master on the muddy road.

Rose chewed her lip nervously as she pulled back the curtain. Sam had been gone ten days. Surely he had been on his wayy to Buckland when the storm hit, but not enough time for him to reach it safely. She marched to the coat rack and grabbed her shawl.

Frodo, who had been standing in the shadows, made himself known. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to go ‘n find him, Mr. Frodo,” she said, her eyes begging him to let her go.

“Rose, he couldn’t possibly be near here. All you will do is get yourself lost in that storm. We don’t need to search for two people — only one is too much.”

“I’m so worried,” she protested.

“Rose, you are just going to have to trust that he is alright,” he replied, taking her shawl off her shoulders and hanging it again.

“I hope so.”

“Well, I know so. Now, close the door. It’s cold outside.”

Sam awoke, shivering violently. “Bill?” he called weakly as he pushed through the snow that had so quickly piled on top of him. Arms close to his body, he stood and called for his pony again. He could not understand. Why was he here and Bill was nowhere in sight? “Bill!” he called again. “Bill? Bill!”

Sam caught glance of something in the snow and fiercely began to dig with his bare hands, fearing it could be Bill. He sighed with relief and then cried out in frustration as his pots and pans and his pack were revealed. As he pulled out his jacket and scarf, he chided himself, “Samwise, you fool, you’re in a fix and no mistake. Stuck without any sense of direction nowhere near a town. Surely, ya got Rosie and Mr. Frodo plum worried.”

Sam stood after putting on his coat and scarf, strength found. “You’ve got t’ find Bill, alive or no, ‘n git on home. Don’t need no search group out ‘n lookin’ for you.”

Sam plundered through the snow, yelling for Bill to come. His face and hands burned from the cold, yet he plundered on. Sam paused as he heard a sound nearby. Was it his imagination or had he heard a whinney? Sam called out, “Bill!”

He squinted his eyes and put his frozen hand over his eyes to shield them from the onset of blinding snow. He made out a brownish speck — well, more than a speck — in the near surroundings. As hastily as possible, he lifted his feet, which were burning from the coldness. How he wished he had boots! He had to hurry if he wanted to still have feet when he got home. Sam grabbed his elven rope out of his pack and prepared to catch Bill, who was scared out of his mind.

Slowly, he approached the pony. “Easy, Bill; whoa,” he said softly, and the pony calmed slightly. “It’s just Sam. I ain’t goin’ t’ harm you none. Now stand right where y’ are ‘n I’ll come t’ you.”

Much to Sam’s surprise, the pony stayed, sensing the end of the storm. Sam timidly mounted Bill, unsure as to whether or not be prepared for him to rear. “Best get back t’ civilization, leastways t’ Buckland, seein’ it’s near ‘n all,” Sam instructed. “Giddy-up.” He kicked the pony’s side gently, and Bill began to go.

It was morning and the storm had ended long ago. Rose sat by the warm fire, shivering at the though of her husband out in the cold.

Frodo emerged from the corridor and joined her. “He is alright, you know,” Frodo consoled. “I would know if he weren’t”

“People always say that, and it all goes wrong. I kind of figured I would too, but now I’m just so afraid for him that I just don’t know. It’s morning, and there’s no news of him.”

“Sam would not like it if he heard you were worrying on his account. He wants nothing but happiness for you.”

“I know, Mr. Frodo. I just wonder as to where he is. Is he safe? Has he any shelter?”

“He is and he has. Sam would not stay out in the cold.” Frodo sat down in the chair across from Rose.

“Still, I wonder. I love him, and I don’t know what I would do if he were to –” She halted her speech, placing her hand over her mouth.

“He is alive, Rose Gamgee. Don’t you ever think otherwise,” he said firmly, though his face remained kind and gentle. “He made a promise a year ago: ‘Don’t you lose him, Samwise Gamgee.’ He did not mean to then, and if he dies, how can he make suer ehe does not lose either of us? Do you get my meaning?”

“I reckon I do a little.” The lass walked over to the window and peered out, her arms crossed and face worried.

“No, Mr. Merry, I must be goin’ home now. Rosie’ll be worryin’ now, and I won’t have that,” Sam said as he made his way out Brandy Hall and mounted the pony he had made ready as soon as he had gotten ready for the day.

“Alright. Send my best regards to Frodo and your wife,” Merry answered, seeing he was getting nowhere with the gardener.

“I will, Mr. Merry. You needn’t worry.” Sam flicked the reigns and he was off.

Rose was at the window once more as the third day since the storm had passed. She bounded out the door with joy as she saw her husband leading Bill up the road. He was home! Sam was caught off-guard when seh raced up to him and hugged him tightly. “You’re home! And you’re safe!” she said as she pulled away, smiling.

“Yes, my love, I am home, and I am safe.”

“And right were you belong,” she added as once again she held him tight.

Fin