Still, ever the servant, Samwise went about his duties----only this time, when he made supper, he sat down to eat with his master instead of disappearing elsewhere. But the routine settled back into its normal pattern when Frodo had gone off to his study and Sam had tended to the dishes in the kitchen. All seemed well and good, and it was silent save for the ticking of the old clocks and the dull clanking of sturdy flatware.
Then, the sounds of dishes faded, and the silence grew thicker. Sam had an uncanny knack of walking silently through halls to light the candles, and tending to the fire without being noticed----it was a gift that servants had. Where gentlehobbits learned to gather attention by seeming to be quiet and polite, servants were actually taught the art of quiet for quiet's sake.
And for the past hour, Samwise had been loitering in the doorway into the study, resting against the round frame and smiling to himself. He was perfectly content to watch Frodo's back while he wrote, catalogued, read----whatever he did, Sam wasn't entirely sure. But he didn't need to know what he did in order to find it beautiful.