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English
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Published:
2025-12-16
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1,467
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1/1
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Snowflakes

Summary:

Frodo wants nothing more than to curl up with Sam and enjoy the snowy day from inside of Bag End. Sam’s hardworking nature and mayoral duties get in the way of that wish.

Short and sweet! Samfro fluff with mild angst. Snowy weather isn’t required to enjoy but may enhance the experience lol.

Notes:

I don’t own these characters! They’ve just captured my heart. Let me know what you think :)

Work Text:

Frodo watched Sam shovel snow outside from his chair next to the front window, wishing he’d been awake to convince Sam he didn’t need to do any outdoor work today—or any work at all, for that matter.

Even his mayoral duties were on pause for today thanks to the weather. He had no meetings, no ceremonies to attend, no family disputes to settle.

Sam ought to be still asleep, his sturdy arms wrapped around Frodo’s torso. Instead, he was outside in the bitter cold, attempting to clear Bag End’s walkway.

Despite the warm mug of tea in Frodo’s hands, he shivered. Maybe Sam would come back inside if he knew Frodo was in need of his expert fire-building skills. At this point of their companionship, Frodo truly couldn’t imagine what he would do without Sam. He made Frodo’s life noticeably better in countless ways.

As if hearing his thoughts, Sam paused his shoveling outside and turned to give Frodo a wave through the window. While he had Sam’s attention, Frodo made a come inside gesture, beckoning with his empty hand. Sam held up five fingers in response: Five more minutes.

Frodo sighed and decided to busy himself with preparing Sam’s own mug of tea. Two spoons of sugar and a dash of cream, just the way he liked it.

The front door opened and he heard Sam begin to tromp down the hallway. Leaving the tea to cool to an acceptable temperature, Frodo rushed to meet his love.

“You have snowflakes in your hair,” Frodo laughed, watching Sam shed his heavy outerwear.

Sam shook his head, making his curls fly and several snowflakes hit the ground. Frodo helped with the rest of them, ruffling Sam’s damp hair till the snow had disappeared.

“Thanks,” Sam said, smiling. “I didn’t expect to see you up; I thought you’d sleep in for hours yet.”

“I woke up as soon as you left the room,” Frodo said, hanging up Sam’s coat and scarf.

Sam tutted. “I’ll leave quieter next time.”

“It’s not the volume you leave at, it’s the leaving in general that disturbs me,” Frodo said, wrapping his arms around Sam and feeling warmer within a moment. Even after coming in from the cold, Sam was warmer than Frodo.

Sam returned Frodo’s embrace for a moment, then released him with a quick kiss on the cheek. “Any hot water left in the kettle? I saw you had a mug through the window.”

“Your tea is waiting for you,” Frodo said, happy to have been able to accomplish this small task for Sam, considering all Sam did for him.

“Ah, you’re the sweetest,” Sam said, kissing Frodo’s cheek once more.

They brought their tea to the sitting room because the kitchen was too drafty for Frodo’s taste.

“What made you so eager to shovel the snow, Sam?” Frodo asked, pressed against Sam’s shoulder on the sofa. “After all, clearing the path implies we want people to visit, and I certainly don’t.”

Sam laughed. “It’s good to have it clear regardless. What if you were to step out and slip on the ice? I couldn’t have that.”

Frodo hummed, knowing he wasn’t likely to step foot outside anytime soon. Everything he needed was inside Bag End now that Sam lived with him.

Warm and content again at last, Frodo shifted so he could rest his head against Sam’s chest.

“Gonna go back to sleep for a bit?” Sam asked, running a hand through Frodo’s hair in a practiced motion.

“Just a bit,” Frodo confirmed, deep sleep coming to claim him.

Not long after they both drifted off, a knock at the door disrupted the silence. Frodo groaned involuntarily, holding onto Sam tighter as if that would stop him from going to invite the wretched disturbers of the peace in.

Sam kissed Frodo’s head, and gently disentangled himself from Frodo’s arms. “Half a moment, Frodo-love.”

Frodo was cold again as soon as Sam left his side. He felt selfish, wanting to keep Sam for himself even though the entirety of Hobbiton needed him. But didn’t he have the right to be selfish? Couldn’t he think of what he wanted after nearly giving his life for his home?

He heard voices at the door. Sam greeted the visitor in a friendly voice; he was all business and polite interest. Frodo only caught snippets of the conversation: “snow was too heavy,” “anyone hurt?” “crashed right through the ceiling.”

Frodo gripped the wool blanket hanging on the back of the sofa and pulled it around his shoulders with a sigh. It sounded like mayoral duties, and Sam never turned down anyone who needed help. That was why he had been reelected two times already.

The voices were in the entryway now. He heard footsteps come down the hall, but it was only Sam.

“I’m sorry, Frodo,” Sam said, and he looked it, his eyes anxiously assessing Frodo’s mood. “The roof of the Bolger’s barn caved in with all the snowfall. They need me to come take a look at the damage. Will you be okay alone for a little while?”

Frodo wrapped his blanket tighter about his shoulders. “I suppose,” he said.

Sam looked even more nervous at this answer. “If you want, you could come along? You could sit in the carriage all the way, I wouldn’t let anyone bother you.”

Frodo almost agreed, but thought he’d look pretty silly bundled up against the elements and scowling at the Bolger family while Sam helped them.

“I’ll be alright,” Frodo assured Sam.

Though he still looked apprehensive, Sam came to kiss Frodo goodbye. Frodo held on to him a moment longer than usual, then released him to attend to his responsibilities.

Sam knew that when Frodo was left in solitude, he was powerless to the onslaught of awful memories. Time slipped away from him, and he wandered Bag End’s halls like a ghost, looking out of windows and wondering if anyone could see him.

The melancholy mood settled under his skin and wouldn’t let him rest when there was nothing distracting him from his thoughts and memories. For this reason, Sam tried to make sure Frodo was never alone for more than a couple hours at a time. Whenever Sam had a long day as Hobbiton’s mayor, Pippin or Merry would just happen to show up at Bag End to keep Frodo company.

It simply wasn’t fair, Frodo thought after Sam had got back into his heavy winter coat and braved the cold again. Frodo needed Sam far more than these helpless hobbits who had endless chores for him. But Sam was far too good to let even the smallest problem go unattended to.

The wind howled outside, rattling the round windows of Bag End. Frodo burrowed into the sofa, feeling a chill settle into his limbs. Winter sounded cruel in an empty house.

He absentmindedly picked up a book from the side table and skimmed through a couple pages, but before long the same old thoughts began to swirl around Frodo’s head; the ones that told him despite everything he and the rest of the Fellowship had done, the shadow was coming. They hadn’t stopped it, just delayed it, and it was foolish to think they had actually saved anything.

Blanket still around his shoulders, Frodo heaved himself off the couch. He ignored the twinge of pain in his shoulder with ease. He replaced the book on one of the overstuffed shelves and returned to the sofa, his lack of energy entirely unsurprising.

Frodo put his face in his hands and sighed. He could almost roll his eyes at how predictable it all was. At a certain point, his woeful moods and lethargy were more boring than truly upsetting.

“Ridiculous,” Frodo muttered to himself, head still in his hands.

“That’s just what I thought, too,” a welcome voice responded.

Frodo’s head shot up. “Sam!”

Sam stood in the doorway, unwrapping his scarf and shedding his coat.

“Hello,” Sam smiled.

“That was fast! What happened to the big Bolger emergency?” Frodo asked.

“Wasn’t an emergency at all,” Sam said. “The barn that caved in didn’t even have any animals in it! It was mostly for storing hay.”

Frodo got up and rushed to give Sam a hug in greeting. Once Sam’s arms were around him again, his worrisome thoughts faded into background noise, unimportant and faraway.

“So you just left?” Frodo asked, head on Sam’s shoulder. “They’re going to complain about that, Mr. Mayor.”

“Well, I didn’t just walk away. I said something very official-sounding and let them know I had urgent matters to take care of at home.”

“And what urgent matter was that?” Frodo smiled as Sam began to sway them both back and forth in a very slow dance.

“You, my dear.”