For those of you who haven't seen it on
my fic journal :)
Title: Your Sam
Author: Q
Length: Drabble
Pairing: Sam/Frodo
Rating: G
Summary: Frodian slip.
Disclaimer: Middle Earth certainly isn't mine. Not even a little bit.
A/N: Angsty hobbitses are my forte.
It's me! It's your Sam!
Your Sam. My tongue lost control before I could stop the "your" from forming. I was afraid. The ring glowed when you held Sting to my throat. The fire in your eyes was said "Mordor", not "Frodo".
Now I can see it destroying you from the inside out. I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms and say, "Everything's all right, your Sam's here."
Your Sam.
Tonight as I pull your cloak over you, you innocently ask, "Why did you say 'your Sam' in Osgiliath?"
I swallow.
"Sam?"
"Slip of the tongue."