Frodo loved little Sammie, loved him with all his heart. How could he not? That soft pearl skin, dark downy curls, wide blue eyes, the gentle fluttering of his eyelashes while he slept! Samwise Gardner was a miracle that should have never and almost hadn't been born. Every tiny breath, every hesitant caress bestowed by his uncle, only sealed the deep, soul burning love Frodo felt for him.
'Ow!'
But!
'Rosie, he's pulling again!' Frodo walked into the kitchen, Sam-lad hoisted over one shoulder. His face was a grimace of pain as the babe discovered the joys of pulling at his slightly silver locks.
Rosie only flicked a glance his way and kept washing dishes. 'You've buttered your bread, Frodo Baggins. The least you can do is let him tug at your hair.'
'But he's! OUCH!' Sammie laughed at the stern look his uncle shot his way. Frodo shifted the four month old into the crook of one arm and used his free hand to disentangle chubby fingers from the tender hairs at the nape of his neck. He eyed Sammie crossly as the babe settled on shoving a handful of his curls in his mouth. 'Don't. Do. That!' But the order was half-hearted and softened with a kiss on the nose.
Rosie shook her hands dry and kissed Frodo similarly. 'Don't be such a grumpp, Frodo. This babe is entirely yours!' She drew his four fingered hand to her stomach and smiled as she deepened the kiss. '! but I promise you that this one will pull Sam's hair.'
~