Sun on the Daisies by StarSpray  

Sun on the Daisies

“Oh.” Frodo’s voice was soft, almost more sigh than sound. “Sam, look.” 

They had just stepped out of the door of Bag-end; it was nearly ready to move back into, but the gardens were still barren and brown, the saddest thing Sam had ever seen. It had been tempting to dump the Lady’s gift all throughout them, but when he had started to suggest it Frodo had shaken his head and insisted he keep to his first plan—spread it as widely through the Shire as he could. It was only right. 

Still, he hated to see nothing but brown dead grass and churned up earth where once forget-me-nots and snapdragons had bloomed. Hated to see the old stump of the Party Tree, partly burned and jagged, alone in the empty field. Hated the silence where there should have been birds and crickets and buzzing bees.

But now he followed Frodo’s gaze and saw a single flower, a little daisy with a sun-bright center, peeping out of the colorless earth. When he looked back at Frodo he saw him smiling—a real smile, for the first time since they’d come home. “Spring is coming,” he said.