Sam’s Cloak by Shirebound Written in response to all the folks -- including me -- who think they heard Frodo whisper “I love you” as he and Sam embraced in the movie at the Grey Havens. Did he whisper anything? Perhaps he did, but perhaps it wasn’t “I love you”… and perhaps it wasn’t to Sam. Not exactly. He buried his face in Sam’s cloak as they embraced for the last time, engraving in his memory the texture and smell of it -- as if he’d ever forget. This cloak... Sam had tried to hide it, but I had never seen him so excited. Mr. Frodo, this was made by Elves, sir! Me, Sam Gamgee, wearing something woven by the Lady herself! Can you believe it, sir? This cloak... shivering in Mordor, on the hard, cold ground, without the strength to even move, and Sam covering us both with the only thing he had to give. This cloak... awakening in the darkness to find it softly folded under my head, while Sam lay nearby with no comfort. This cloak... like Sam, it was comfort and warmth, protection and strength; a steady, certain thing that never failed, never faltered, even at the end of all things. For all of your days, dear Sam, this will remind you of your beloved Elves. And when you join us in the West... He buried his face in Sam’s cloak as they embraced for the last time. “Thank you,” he whispered. Thank you. Keep him safe and warm until I see you both again. © Shirebound |