Inspired by the accompanying artwork by Hino on DeviantArt.
"Mr. Frodo? I've got your supper, sir."
But Frodo doesn't turn around.
"I'm not hungry, Sam."
"You've got to eat, sir, and keep up your strength."
"For what? It's all quite hopeless, Sam. Even with Gollum's help, how will we ever make it to Mount Doom? The Ring grows heavier and heavier and I'm leading you to your death and I should never have allowed you to come with me..."
With a clink Sam sets the battered tin plate on a rock then familiar hands come to rest firm and warm on Frodo’s shoulders. He doesn't resist when Sam gently turns him round and fixes him with a serious gaze.
"Allowed? The only 'allowed' is that I'd not have allowed you to go off to Mordor without me." His hands tighten. "We go together, Mr. Frodo, every step of the way, and if you're ever feeling the lack of hope, you take some from me. I've plenty and to spare."
"Oh Sam." A reluctant smile tugs at Frodo's lips but his eyes grow moist. "Just to hear your words gives me hope." There's a rumble of noise and the smile curls and widens. "And an appetite. Bring on those sausages, Samwise."
Sam grins and gives Frodo's shoulders a final squeeze before stooping to retrieve the plate. “A nice meal and a full belly will cheer you like naught else, Mr. Frodo.”
But it’s not the food that lightens Frodo’s burden. It’s the one who makes it. His Sam.