Title: Memories of Rose

By: Chloe (the elvish, angst-loving, enthusiast)

Feedback: You can e-mail me at evenstar47@hotmail.com and I would *love* to receive any ff.net feedback as well. If you can think of any mistakes I've made, (grammar, spelling, punctuation etc.) feel free to correct me…just please be nice. :)

Rated: 'G for Grand!' the hobbit children shouted, and Gandalf smiled. ;)

Summery: While Sam and Frodo are traveling through Mordor, the two recall some of their best memories among them, and the darling hobbit-lass, Rosie Cotton.

Spoilers: A couple, if you've never read the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Disclaimers: Any recognizable people or places in this are exclusively J.R.R. Tolkien's. They *don't* belong to me, I *don't* have permission to use them, but I'm *not* getting paid to write this, so really who cares? :)

Also, parts throughout the story, especially at the beginning, are practically verbatim from Two Towers, Book 2, Chapter 2, page 239-240. There are also various other quotes from Two Towers and Return of the King.

(If you'd like specifics of where the quotes are from, please ask, and I can give you the page numbers.)

Dedication: To Katie (owner of the Rosie&Sam fan listing) for making me realize how truly wonderful Rosie and Sam are, and how much they deserved fan fiction! Thank you for inspiring me to write about the most adorable couple Tolkien ever wrote! :)

NOTE: The fan listing is at: www.those-who-wander.net/samrosie . Please join! Sam and Rosie deserve a fan club! :D

Also, if you'd like to view the cover I did for this, please go to: http://community.webshots.com/scripts/editPhotos.fcgi?action=showMyPhoto&albumID=53705226&photoID=53705757&security=mYJedK

Hope you like it! :)

***** marks the beginning and the end of a flashback.

Memories of Rose

A spray of flowers,

Cup of tea,

A bit of rainy weather

The night we danced,

Her love for me,

Are tributes to forever!

Chapter 1

A Spray of Flowers

The mass of red light, that was supposedly a sun, turned the forbidding mountains blood-red. Perhaps it was meant to be a sunrise, but there was really no day nor night in Mordor, for it was impossible to see either sunrise or set through the heavy air filled to the brim with ash.

The dismal atmosphere hammered angrily down on three beings bellow; hobbits. Frodo Baggins, the ring bearer, Samwise Gamgee, his faithful companion, and the curious creature Gollum, or Smé agol as he was once called, stood before the wastelands left by the Dark Lord Sauron, gazing blankly over the heaps of ashes.

Too weary from their seemingly endless trek through the unwelcoming lands of Mordor, they wandered about to find a place for rest. For awhile they sat without speaking under the shadow of a mound of slag; but foul fumes leaked out of it, catching their throats and choking them. Gollum was the first to get up. Spluttering and cursing, he rose, and without a word or a glance at the hobbits he crawled away on all fours. Frodo and Sam crawled after him, until they came to a wide almost circular pit, high banked against the west. It was cold and dead, and a foul sump of oily many-colored oozed lay at it's bottom. In this evil hole they cowered, hoping in its shadow to escape the attention of the great lidless Eye of Sauron.

The day began to pass slowly, and for awhile none spoke, and the only sound was the hissing wind. Finally, Frodo made his sore throat to make sound.

"I'll grant that I have mentioned it before, Sam, but you look tired."

The other looked up suddenly, a little surprised. "Well, indeed, Mr. Frodo, indeed. But I can't say I'm tired as you, for you look as though you might fall if I'll not be there to keep you up!"

Frodo shook his head slowly, smiling in slightly, which surprised Sam even more. "Are you all right, Mr. Frodo?"

He nodded this time, and fixed his friend with a intense blue gaze. "I was only thinking. Of the Shire." He cocked his head to the side. "I miss it all, but what likely I shall miss the most, is…" he stared around him a moment, looking from the ashen ground to the rocky mountains, to the cold, gray sky. "the grass. The trees. I shall miss how close you are to the sky, sitting high up in a tree." his smile widened slightly. "Remember the one Pipin could never climb?"

Sam nodded as well, surprised to find that he too could smile. "Indeed, who could not? And when he once tried to climb it, for Merry could well."

Frodo shook his head again, his smile growing larger by the moment. "How long did it take for Merry to find him?"

"Nearly an hour, and well he did, for the blood had all gone to the foolish Took's head!"

Frodo surprised both himself, and his friend, when he laughed. It was not loud, or as full as the laughter he used to bestow on his friend, but still the familiar sign of joy. But the two hobbits were not the only ones to catch the laughter. Gollum hobbled over towards them, looking slightly confused.

"What does hobbits have for laughing at?! It is daaangerous lands. Yes, my precious. Daaangerous. Not for being laughed at by hobbits! Not a place for laugh!"

Frodo shook his head, and fixed the creature with a blue stare. "Come now, Smé agol, when *did* you last laugh?"

Gollum looked indignant. "This not a place for laugh!" He quoted himself. "It is a place for fear. Gollumm. Yesss. And *we* don't laugh at feeeear." he began to purr softly, and retreated a few feet away from the hobbits. Sam looked as though he would say something, but Frodo shook his head.

"Leave him. Miserable creature can't even laugh." he shook his head again. "And awhile, neither could I. But memories of the Shire can only bring happiness, though I expect we will not see it again." he sighed, and looked up at the other. "And what do you miss most, Sam?"

Sam already had a far-away look in his deep blue eyes. "Oh, I don't rightly know, Mr. Frodo. How can a lad choose among such things when it is his home? It was indeed my home, and that in itself I shall miss."

Frodo couldn't help the smile across his face now, but this time it was slightly sad. "You'll see her again, Sam. I know it."

"What?" Sam's eyes refocused on Frodo, and he looked only slightly confused.

"You know of whom I speak, foolish hobbit." Frodo didn't usually use any of the choice names of Sam's Gaffer on him, but Sam understood when it was but in jest.

"Whom?" he continued to guess, though he knew as well as Frodo 'whom'. Frodo didn't answer, but merely fixed Sam with a cocked eyebrow.

"If-" Sam began slowly. "If you speak of Miss Rose, Mr. Frodo, I can't say that's what I should miss the most. Leastways, I shall miss her, but I shall miss her dear family as well. Farmer Cotton has been quite courteous to me, in past times."

"Indeed." Frodo agreed, his smile becoming wide, and playful rather than distressed.

Sam glanced at him and caught the smile. "Now, Mr. Frodo. Don't be thinking I- that is to say, I like Rosie-Miss Rose, that is, but there's no reason to think- I wouldn't say we are-"

"I *am* thinking that, there *is* reason to think that, I most certainly *would* say you are, and there's no reason to feel embarrassed over it." He laid a hand on Sam's shoulder. "It is no secret, and there's no reason to make it one. Dear Sam, you *love* Rosie." he shrugged. "And I think it's wonderful of you."

Sam began to look rather like the Mordor sun. "I- well, I-"

"Sam." Frodo gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Yes." his face went even brighter as he looked away a moment. "Yes, I- well yes I love Miss- Rosie."

Frodo smiled, and let go of his friend's shoulder, and nodding in a satisfied gesture. "I know."

"I-I really do. It's not that I don't mean it, just I don't like saying it all that much."

"Don't worry, Sam. When you're among friends, you need not worry about that." he glanced over to where Gollum was still curled up and purring a few feet away. "*a* friend, at least."

Sam also looked at the dull-gray creature, shaking his head disbelievingly. "He wouldn't know happiness if it came to him and demanded his precious!"

Frodo laughed slightly again, causing Sam to turn and look at him. "What?"

"I was thinking about Rosie. Do you remember the time she fell down the Hill?"

Sam's face went, if possible, even more red. "Aye." he said sheepishly. "And no offence meant by this, Mr. Frodo, but I believe that was mostly your doing."

Frodo shook his head slowly, laughing softly. "Well, that's not how *I* remember it!"

"Oh? Well all I know is what *I* remember."

"Yes? Then what, Samwise, do you remember?"

*****

The wind blew softly over the grasses of the Sire, ruffling them like a green wave that didn't stop; like water you could, and were sorely tempted to walk through. Two short beings stood on one of these grassy hills, looking even shorter amongst the tall grass and sparse flowers the would show their blue, yellow or pink heads over the wavering grass as though they were lost.

"Oh, you were right. It's *lovely* Sam." Frodo sighed, letting the cool air sink in. Another light breeze ruffled the grass gently, sending his exhaled breath across the field.

"It isn't the best of places, Mr. Frodo." Sam told him excitedly. "Way up on the Hill is beautiful right now."

"Well, then," Frodo smiled broadly. "if there is something *more* beautiful than this, I surely must see it! For you surely would know what is beautiful among the trees and grass, would you not Samwise?"

Sam glowed with pride, and the two waded through the dense grass, which though it was so, was also quite thin and cool rather than heavy and itchy.

They finally gained the peak of the Hill, one of the highest points in the Shire, and gazed over it's view.

"You were very right, Sam." Frodo sighed, letting his bright blue eyes sweep the new sight. This one was even greater, for the grass was taller, and flowers could be seen in mass here and there, peaking out of the grass together, rather than sitting alone. "It is friendlier here." he told his friend, who seemed to relax slightly. Sam usually got nervous showing other's some of his favorite things, for fear they may not like it as he did. But Frodo was always thoroughly pleased with whatever Sam wanted to show him, this time more than ever. The sight of the grassy hill rolling over itself, studded with royal-colored flowers, accompanied by a welcoming breeze…it took his breath away.

"This must be rather like what the sea looks like." he mused dreamily, letting his blue gaze drift at the pace of the steady breeze over the view again.

"Maybe." Sam responded in the same tone. "I don't think I much thought of it that way. Perhaps if it were water, not grass?"

Frodo slowly shook his head. "There are no flowers in the sea. Surely, Sam, this is the best view anyone could hope to see. Better even than the sea."

Sam turned slightly pink, and turned to Frodo. "Do you want to walk in it?"

"I'm not sure. I might worry of ruining it."

"You couldn't do that." Sam assured.

"You're right." Frodo consented, smiling over at his friend. "Nothing could."

They began to walk through the tall grass, which nearly cam up to their waists. Half-way down the hill though, Sam bent down and lifted a tiny cluster of purple flowers. "Brodieas." he mused, his fingers caressing the thin petals. "But the stem's severed. Did it get trampled?"

Frodo shrugged. "Someone might have picked it."

Sam looked indignant. "Who would pick a Brodieas lily, an simply leave it? Who *wouldn't* want it?"

Frodo couldn't help laughing at the personal offence his friend had taken. "Don't ask me, Sam. I don't know the difference between a Vervain and a Lobilia, I doubt I could help."

Sam shook his head. "Forgive me, Mr. Frodo, forgive me. I do, I think, get angry over silly things."

"That's not true. Here," Frodo pointed to the severed stem on the lily. "It's still green. Someone picked this recently."

Sam nodded, and looked around. "But who?"

"Well, let's- I say! Look, Sam. Over there, see it?"

Sam squinted, and then nodded. "It's a flattened space in the grass. Maybe someone's there!"

The two walked down the Hill, still finding flowers here and there. They finally reached the flattened spot at the bottom of the Hill, and as they pulled the last of the grass out of the way, they were surprised at what they found.

"Rosie!" Sam exclaimed.

"Miss Rose!" Frodo said at the same time, and the two charged into the clearing sitting beside her.

Rosie pushed herself part of the way off the ground, and looked up. "Sam! Frodo! Well, this *is* a surprise!" she smiled broadly, and Sam went a little pink.

"What happened?" Frodo asked, looking around at her grass-stained dress, and her tousled locks of hair.

"I was walking," she sighed, pointing up at the Hill. "And I tripped, fell, rolled all the way down here, and," she pushed herself onto her elbows. "I think I twisted my ankle."

"What makes you think that?" Sam asked timidly. She looked over at him, and smiled again.

"Well, I really just guessed, but I think it's a good one."

"Why?" Asked Frodo.

She grinned. "It hurts, you silly hobbit." Frodo grinned back. "Leastways, I can't walk on it, twisted or no."

"Well, we can help you back up the Hill," he began, but Rosie was already shaking her head, the movement causing her curls to bounce back and forth.

"Sorry. Tried. I made it to about …" she squinted at the Hill awhile, then pointed a few feet away from her in the grass. "There. Then I fell down again."

Frodo grinned at the girl's cheerful jest. Obviously, her ankle was the *only* thing that had gotten twisted.

"Well," He said, pushing himself to his feet. "I'll have to go into Hobbiton and get help. Perhaps Uncle Biblo will know what to do, or at least know who will."

Sam began to rise, but Frodo shook his head. "Now, Sam, be a gentleman, and stay with Rosie. I shall be but a short while."

Sam looked as though he were going to argue, but Rosie's mouth had not gone dry as his, and she was able to speak up quicker.

"Thank you Frodo. Sam and I will pick flowers 'till you return."

"Sounds wonderful." Frodo smiled, giving Sam a particularly wide grin. Sam had never glared at Frodo, but the closest he'd ever gotten was the look he gave now. Frodo only increased his opposite expression, and turned towards the Hill.

There was a soft giggle. "You look like you're going to die, Sam Gamgee!" Sam turned sheepishly towards Rosie, who had rolled over on the soft ground, and was lying of her back, grinning up at him. "So. What were you two doing here?"

"Oh, well, I come here lots, and knew it'd be nice right about now, so I brought Mr. Frodo up here with me to see it."

"Well," she peered around the ocean of grass. "You were right. It's *lovely* right now."

"It is."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, uncomfortable, that is, for Sam only. Rosie was still grinning.

"I came up to pick some flowers for the empty space on our table. They brighten up a meal like you wouldn't believe! Unfortunately," she looked around her. "I lost them all when I fell."

Sam looked suddenly relieved at something to do. "I'll go find you some more." he rose to leave, but suddenly Rosie reached out for his knee, placing her small hand on it.

"Don't go without me. All the fun is in picking the flowers, and who wouldn't want to pick flowers on a day like this?"

"But-" he hesitated. "But I thought-"

"I can walk, Sam," she propped herself up on her elbows again. "If you'll help me!"

Sam went bright red, but he really wanted to help her, so he knelt down, and put and arm behind her shoulders, holding out his other hand for her to hold on to. Slowly but surly, he pushed her up, while she pulled herself up by his outstretched hand, and she finally stood. She winced slightly, once her foot hit the ground.

"Well," she said, "lets give it a go."

They both began to walk through the grass, Rosie still holding onto Sam's arm, but she stopped only a few feet away from where they'd been. "I'm sorry Sam." she sighed. "It really hurts." looking a little disappointed, she sat in the tall grass, and looked up at him. "I don't think I can walk on it."

Sam knelt beside her. "That's all right. There will be other days to pick flowers."

Rosie nodded, and gazed over the beautiful hills of grass and flowers. "I know that. You're right."

Sam also looked around, and knew what she was thinking. "But not a day like today."

"No, no. You're right, Sam. I'll come up here again…sometime."

Sam knew he never was good with hobbit-lasses, and goodness knows, he didn't think himself very gentle, but he couldn't take the disappointed look on Rosie's young face, and before he knew what he was doing, he offered, "I'll carry you, if you'd like. Then we can still pick flowers."

Rosie turned her sweet brown eyes on him, and genuine smile touched her small lips. "Oh, Sam, that would be wonderful."

Sam nodded, and determined to be stronger than he usually was, on the outside at least, he put one arm under Rosie's knees, and the other behind her back, while she looped her arms around his neck.

"Comfortable?" he asked her, surprised by how light she was.

"Completely. You?"

"Not yet." he admitted, meaning only on the inside, and was rewarded by another soft giggle.

The two walked easily through the tall grass, until they reached the first cluster of flowers; a pale pink cloud amongst the mountains of green.

"Oh, we *must* stop here!" Sam said, setting Rosie gently on the ground, and sitting down beside her. "Gentians!" and they began to pluck the delicate flowers, and put them in a bunch. The first of their bouquet.

"What are these called again?"

"Gentians." He told her, smiling brightly. "They grow a lot up here."

Rosie smiled again. "You would know. You know *so* much about flowers, Sam."

Sam blushed. "Not that much, not really at least-"

"What's you're favorite flower?" she asked, keeping the compliment firmly in place.

"I dunno." Sam shrugged. "Perhaps Bluets. I like the color blue. What about you?"

Rosie thought a moment. "Maybe these." she lifted a Gentian. "I seem to remember my mother telling me of them. They're a kind of rose, I think."

Sam looked up. "Are they, now?"

"I believe so." she smiled, plucking another cluster.

"Then, I think these'll be my favorite flowers now." he nodded resolutely, and examined the flowers again.

"Because their pink?" she giggled.

"No," he smiled at her. "because they're a kind of rose. And *all* Rosie's- I- I mean roses. All roses are beautiful." and Rosie smiled even bigger.

"We're going to start losing flowers," Sam said awhile later, trying to keep the Gentians, Woodsorrels, Fleabanes, Saxifrages, and now, a handful of Beggarweeds, into the same bunch without dropping them.

"Here," Rosie pulled the blue, silk ribbon from her hair, and tied it around the bundle. "there!"

Sam nodded, and ran his fingers over the ribbon. "Well, it appears Mr. Frodo has encountered a crisis. I suppose I could carry you back up the Hill," he turned to Rosie who was nodding reluctantly. "But, we still haven't gotten you more Brodiaes, and you *can't* have a complete bouquet without that!"

Rosie smiled again. "Thank you Sam. I really *don't* want to go back now. Not yet."

"I know what you mean." he murmured, and turned as red as the Beggarweeds in his hand.

They had found their way to the Brodiaes lilies, and then to the Buttercups, and Bluets, and Woodsorals, 'forgetting' the had already picked the Woodsorals, and though they wanted to stay after they were picked, they couldn't think of another excuse to do so, so they started up the Hill, Rosie still sitting in Sam's arms.

They gained the top of the steep mound, and sat down on it to enjoy the view together a little longer.

Sam sat hesitant a moment, and then turned to Rosie. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but- Rosie, can I hold your hand?"

Rosie smiled brightly, and slipped her hand into his, and enjoyed the look of joy on Sam's face as she did so.

"What's your secret, Sam?" she asked slowly. He looked over at her, momentarily confused. "Well, we all have them." she answered his unspoken question with eyes bright. "What's your biggest secret. Unless you don't wish to speak it. I daresay *I'm* not the best to say it to."

"No, no." he told her quickly. "I just- well, not exactly sure I know what my secrets'd be, if I had any."

"You have no secrets?" she asked surprised, and turned around so she could look him in the eye.

"Oh, I suppose I have one…it's well…what's your secret, Rosie?"

She smiled and looked over the windy grass again. "I'm *always* vein over my hair. I'm far too proud of it, Sam, and almost think I must cut it off."

"But shan't ever!" Sam turned around suddenly, and Rosie nearly laughed at the anxious look on his face.

"Well, it is such a problem for me." she informed him matter-of-factly. "You know, at times I wake up during sleep, and will find my fingers tangled in my curls. You shouldn't like to be around then, Sam Gamgee. I am such a frightful mess, and I do get frazzled over it." she sighed, and smiled over at him. "But now, I shan't cut it. For *your* sake if naught else."

Sam smiled sheepishly back, and turned towards the hills as well.

"So, Samwise, I have informed you of my horrid vanity, now it is *your* turn to tell me your secret."

Sam was quiet, and hesitant a moment. Then, "Well, I suppose if I had one, it would be- well," and he rushed his next words as though he were afraid of his nerve deserting him. "I at times, wish to be more with you than with Mr. Frodo." he sighed with relief, and added "I know it's wrong, after all Mr. Frodo, and his dear uncle, Mr. Bilbo have done for me and my family, but sometimes I really should rather be with you, Rosie."

He braced himself for Rosie's response at such a forward answer, but she didn't laugh. And when he looked at her, she was smiling over the wind-blown grass, but not quite looking at them at all. Her mind was still on Sam's secret, and seemed to be playing over and over in her mind so she would not forget it.

At length, Sam reached into the lovely bouquet, examining each flower. "You know, Rosie. You would look very nice with Buttercups." he pulled a few of the pale yellow flowers from the bouquet, and pushed some of Rosie's curly hair back, nestling the tiny blossoms behind her pointed ear. "Or maybe, more accurately, Buttercups would look very nice with you."

Now, she did laugh, but for joy, and reached into the bouquet as well, this time pulling a tiny bunch of Bluets. "You know, Sam, you would look quite becoming with a few Bluets." she reached forward, tucking the blue flowers into his coat pocket. He blushed again, but didn't bother hiding it, and Rosie smiled understandingly.

"Now," she announced brightly, "we are the handsomest in Hobbiton!"

Both laughed merrily, as Rosie collected up her bouquet, and Sam collected up Rosie. The two hobbits made their way slowly down the Hill as the sun began to sink bellow the beautiful hills of grass and flowers, now somehow, made more complete by the events that had now taken place there.

*****

TCB…

If you're interested, I put together a picture with all the flowers in this chapter in it. You can view it at:

http://community.webshots.com/storage/1/v1/0/88/34/54808834DZTLHl_ph.jpg

Just in case you'd like to see what "Rosie's Bouquet" looked like! (I especially like the Bluets and Gentian! ;)