Faces by Elwen of the Hidden Valley
Mar. 24th, 2017 02:46 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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b2memB2MeM Prompt:Day and night. Path:Purple
Format:ficklet
Genre:gen
Rating:gen
Warnings:none
Characters:Frodo, Sam, Rose
Pairings:Sam/Rose
Creator’s Notes (optional):none
Summary:Two faces of Frodo Baggins
The people, settings and main events all belong to JRR Tolkien. I only own my imagination. This is a none profit fanfic.
Blankets were spread upon the lush grass of the party field around the stripling mallorn tree. All the residents of New Row and Bag End were present. Some lounged amongst the remains of their picnics, filling up the corners, and others had settled down for an afternoon snooze in the sunshine.
Sam watched, as Frodo chased a giggling gaggle of faunts, smiling when the children turned the tables, overwhelming Frodo to drag him to the ground, where they proceeded to tickle him mercilessly.
Rose stroked her husband's ear with a grass stalk, leaning in to whisper, “Penny for them.”
“I was just thinkin' as how I never thought to see that scene again. I was rememberin' Mr Frodo playin' with his cousins and me before . . . well, you know.”
“Before the troubles? I wish I'd known him better then.”
Sam smiled wistfully. “He was the merriest hobbit I ever knew.” He waved at the folk scattered about the field. “They think everythin's back to normal.”
Rose wrapped her arms about him and kissed the tip of his ear. “I'll check the oil lamp in his room when we go in.”
-0-
“No! You shall not have it! It is mine!”
Sam and Rose came awake with a start, scrambling out of bed even as Elanor started to fret in her cradle. In what had become on instinctive routine, Rose drew on her dressing gown and made for Elanor while Sam dragged on his own gown and made for Frodo's room.
Sam drew a deep breath as he laid a hand upon Frodo's bedroom door handle, then he stepped into the darkness beyond. He blinked, trying to discern shapes in the black interior. The lamp upon the bedside table must have burned out. Deep gasping breaths came from the direction of the bed but Sam had to pick his way by memory to the window. There he opened the curtains and pale moonlight slipped into the room.
Frodo sat in the middle of the bed, his hair wild and eyes wilder. He clutched at the jewel hung about his neck and Sam knew enough to approach slowly, his voice as gentle as he could make it.
“Tis alright, Mr Frodo. Tis gone forever. You did it. Now here's your Sam come to look after you. Lets find you a fresh nightshirt and then I'll fetch you a cup of tea. It will all seem better after a cup of tea . . .”
END
Format:ficklet
Genre:gen
Rating:gen
Warnings:none
Characters:Frodo, Sam, Rose
Pairings:Sam/Rose
Creator’s Notes (optional):none
Summary:Two faces of Frodo Baggins
The people, settings and main events all belong to JRR Tolkien. I only own my imagination. This is a none profit fanfic.
Blankets were spread upon the lush grass of the party field around the stripling mallorn tree. All the residents of New Row and Bag End were present. Some lounged amongst the remains of their picnics, filling up the corners, and others had settled down for an afternoon snooze in the sunshine.
Sam watched, as Frodo chased a giggling gaggle of faunts, smiling when the children turned the tables, overwhelming Frodo to drag him to the ground, where they proceeded to tickle him mercilessly.
Rose stroked her husband's ear with a grass stalk, leaning in to whisper, “Penny for them.”
“I was just thinkin' as how I never thought to see that scene again. I was rememberin' Mr Frodo playin' with his cousins and me before . . . well, you know.”
“Before the troubles? I wish I'd known him better then.”
Sam smiled wistfully. “He was the merriest hobbit I ever knew.” He waved at the folk scattered about the field. “They think everythin's back to normal.”
Rose wrapped her arms about him and kissed the tip of his ear. “I'll check the oil lamp in his room when we go in.”
-0-
“No! You shall not have it! It is mine!”
Sam and Rose came awake with a start, scrambling out of bed even as Elanor started to fret in her cradle. In what had become on instinctive routine, Rose drew on her dressing gown and made for Elanor while Sam dragged on his own gown and made for Frodo's room.
Sam drew a deep breath as he laid a hand upon Frodo's bedroom door handle, then he stepped into the darkness beyond. He blinked, trying to discern shapes in the black interior. The lamp upon the bedside table must have burned out. Deep gasping breaths came from the direction of the bed but Sam had to pick his way by memory to the window. There he opened the curtains and pale moonlight slipped into the room.
Frodo sat in the middle of the bed, his hair wild and eyes wilder. He clutched at the jewel hung about his neck and Sam knew enough to approach slowly, his voice as gentle as he could make it.
“Tis alright, Mr Frodo. Tis gone forever. You did it. Now here's your Sam come to look after you. Lets find you a fresh nightshirt and then I'll fetch you a cup of tea. It will all seem better after a cup of tea . . .”
END
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