Tales of Samwise

- Onca Icatra


I have helped him.
I have saved him.
I have given him courage.

I have helped him complete his task.
Helped him destroy the ring.
Helped him cast it into the fire.

I have become his only companion.
His light when there seems to be no hope.
His guidance when there seems to be no way.

I have helped him through the tough times.
I have helped him through the simple times.
I have helped him when there seemed no time.

He is the reason for my courage.
The reason for my strength.
The reason for my journey.


I have traveled through The Shire.
Traveled through Bree.
Traveled through Weathertop.

Making my way across this land.
This earth.
This home.

Traveled through Rivendell
Traveled through the Mines.
Traveled through Lothlorien.

Making it through the various locations.
Making it through to journeys end.
And trying to make it there and back again.


Traveling through the Shire.
Was a joyous time for me.
A happy time with friends.

I remember the tall trees.
The warm sunshine.
The gardens at Bag End.

The children at play.
A nice walk over the bridge.
A nice visit to Mr. Frodo.

A good meal of roast chicken.
A good meal of stews.
A good meal of vegatables.

A happy place.
A simple place.
A care-free place.

Oh how I miss The Shire.
I miss the streams.
I miss my home.


Bree was a unusual place to say the least.
Tall men walked about.
Drinking and laughing.

Some looking at us with a snear.
Some looking at us with no expression.
Some just staring at us.

Like we were some kind of strange animal.
Then again it didn't help that we had Pippin.
To drunk to know what was going on.

Though it wasn't all bad.
We met a man there known as Strider.
A wanderer of the area.

He was a ranger.
He was said to be a friend of Gandalf.
He was a allie that helped us.

For if it wasn't for Strider.
We would been lost to the Ringwraiths.
We would have been slaves to Sauron.

But we made it through Bree.



I have come to a Elven world.
One of the most beatiful sights I have seen.
Its trees glisten in the sunlight.

I hear the birds singing.
The water rushing past the rocks.
The feel of the sun on my skin.

Mr. Frodo has been called to a meeting.
A private meeting.
But there ain't no way I'll leave his side.

I hear stories of the ring.
What it can do.
What will do if they don't destroy it.

I hear the voice of Mr. Frodo saying....
I will do it.
I will take it.

He said he will take the ring.
He will cast it into the fire.
He will journey where everyone fears to go.

He says he will be the ring bearer.
I will not have him going with out me.
I guess Pippin and Merry thought the same.

A elf named Elrond said......
We will be the Fellowship of the Ring.

Along with me and Mr. Frodo we have a total-
of nine companions listing such as....
Two men one being Strider and the other...

Being a noble man of Gondor.
A Dwarf named Gimli
A Elf named Legolas
Also of course a Wizard names Gandalf.

And four hobbits Merry,Pippin,Frodo,and me.
We set out on this journey together.
I think... will we live to see the day.


 Settting out of the safe haven of Rivendell.
We start our journey.
And not a easy one I suppose.

I can here the waterfall.
Will it be the last time?
Where are we going?

I have questions.
Questions that can't be answered now.

We all travel south through the mountains.
Making our way accross this land.
Traveling through forests and streams.

We reach our resting point.
Mountain ahead of us.
Hills behind us.

No turning back.


We travel accross the mountains.
Huge covered peeks approch us.
Snow covered ground.

Slowely we treck up it.
Ever up it.
Going on to who knows where.

Sinking in snow.
Frodo falls behind me.
He looks for something.

Ring is gone from his neck.
Boromir pickes it up.
Stares at it with no regard to its power.

Gives it back.
Almost falls to his temptation.
What will be his fate?


We ever go on up the mountain.
Snow becomes deeper.
Feet disappear.

The wind is getting harder.
Air is getting colder.
Feet are getting frozen.

Legolas floas on top.
The men sink in.
Gimli is almost covered.

Forever we press on.

We treck up it.
To the top of its' peek.
We have made it this far.