In the green, gentle expanse of the Shire, in a small and comfortable hole in Bag End, our Samwise Gamgee sat by the round window, gazing out at the rolling hills now so dear and familiar. He held a worn leather-bound book in his sturdy hands, one that bore tales of adventure and loss, triumph and sorrow, courage and friendship. A quill was tucked behind his curly-haired ear, awaiting its call to duty.
I do wonder,
Sam began, speaking to the silent room, his voice echoing the warmth of a hearth fire, humble and soft-spoken,
if old Mr. Bilbo felt this same way, tryin' to get all his adventures rightly told. It's one thing to live 'em, but another to tell 'em.
His calloused fingers traced the empty page before him, a canvas awaiting his tale. There was a far-off look in his eyes, as if he were looking beyond the tranquillity of the Shire, into the fires of Mount Doom, into the depths of Mordor, into the heart of a journey that had shaped him into the hobbit he was now.
And there I was, a simple gardener, holdin' the fate of the world in me very hands. ‘Samwise, you must do it’ he'd said. Frodo had said. And so, I did. Not 'cause I wanted to be a hero, no. But 'cause I had to. For Mr. Frodo, for the Shire, for good meals and a soft bed, for a pint at The Green Dragon, and for Rosie, bless her heart.
He always changed how the Ring fell into the fires of Mount Doom, refusing to accept that Frodo failed at the last hurdle
The quill began to dance across the page under Sam's guidance, translating memories into words, tales of courage that seemed too grand for a humble hobbit, and yet it was a simple truth.
But that's enough of my rambling. Time to get these memories down, as they were, not as folks might imagine 'em. As Mr. Frodo said, ‘You don’t really suppose, do you, that all your adventures and escapes were managed by mere luck, just for your sole benefit?’
His voice trailed off, leaving the room silent but for the gentle scratching of the quill. A soft sigh escaped him.
Luck or no, we did what we had to. And I reckon that's what counts.
With those words hanging in the air, Sam bent his head, the quill continuing its journey across the page, transcribing the unassuming heroism of a hobbit named Samwise Gamgee. The room was quiet again, the tale resting within the silence, awaiting the voice of another to join in.