![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elwendell posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
b2memB2MeM Prompt and Category:Daily prompt - 12 March 2018 - Sailing West
Format:Vignette
Genre:Gen
Rating:Gen
Warnings:None
Characters:Sam Gamgee
Pairings:None
Creator’s Notes (optional):None
Summary:Climb inside Sam's head on the journey West
I don't own nothin'! It was all birthed in the amazing imagination of JRR Tolkien and I am just borrowing a corner.
THE LAST RINGBEARER
At least this ship's bigger than those boats we had to row down the Anduin and I can stretch these old legs. This sea air ain't doin' my arthritis no good, but that ointment the healer gave me helps a bit.
It's funny, seeing elves again. After Mister Frodo left I went a few times to the Woody End to talk with them, but then there just weren't no time. There was the bairns to raise, and then they made me Mayor. Not that I wanted to be Mayor, but somebody had to do it and, if there's one thing that journey did, it showed me that it's dangerous to sit back and ignore things. My Gaffer weren't too pleased. He said “Folk that stick their necks out is more likely to get their heads chopped off.” He had a point, but if Mister Frodo hadn't done it, where would we be now? After he left I tried to live life as he would have liked.
I wonder if Frodo's still alive. I hope so, though I don't suppose Mister Bilbo is still around. I wonder if Frodo's been lonely without him. That's one of the reasons I've come. I don't like to think of Frodo on his own, after all he's been through. He was right to make me stay, though it pains me to admit it. I found all the healing I needed in my faunts, but my children don't need their Da any more, and Bag End reminds me too much of my Rosie. I miss her somethin' fierce.
I weren't sure the offer to sail West still held after all this time, but when I got to the crossroads it was like they'd been waitin'. The elves met me just beyond the far borders of the Westmarch, in the shadow of the elf towers. It's funny how things change. Once upon a time I'd never even seen the towers from a distance. Now half my family's dug in around them. I'll never see family nor towers again. Did I do right, comin' along?
I reckon if it weren't for the company I was keepin', Master Cirdan wouldn't have let me past the gates to the Havens. Elves who stay put in their own lands don't get to see us ordinary folk grow old. Oh, elves get old, I know that. But their bodies don't change, just their eyes. When we rode up to the gates Master Cirdan looked long and hard at me, and I wanted to check that I'd brushed my foot hair. Then he just smiled and said, “Welcome at last, Master Gamgee. The ship is waiting.” He's an elf of few words, is Master Cirdan. Maybe the older they get, the less they have to say.
Can't say I've noticed the same in the Shire. Old Daffy Brockbank don't stop talking from the moment she gets up to the moment she goes to bed. I reckon she probably talks in her sleep too. Not that anythin' she says is worth the listenin'. My Rosie now, she was a quiet one most of the time; not that she couldn't speak up when it was needed. But my favourite times with Rosie were snuggling abed in the morning, before the youngsters were up and about, or sitting in front of the parlour fire of an evenin'; her with her mendin' and me with my pipe. Oh now, there I go crying again, and I promised myself I wouldn't do that.
“Are you still in pain, Master Gamgee?” These elves is kind enough but I reckon most of them don't know what to do with an old crock like me.
“No, thank you kindly for asking. It's just the wind in my eyes.” He don't look convinced, but I'll give elves their due, they know when to leave a body alone.
I wonder how long we'll be on this boat . . . no, its a ship. Master Cirdan was very firm on that. Seems sailors get a bit uppity about you calling a ship a boat. The captain says we've food and water for five days but he don't know when we'll reach the West because, “The West is not truly in the west.” What's that word Mister Bilbo used to use about elves? Enigmatic. That's it.
We've been aboard a few days now. If nobody's ever sailed back from the West how do they know that the other ships ever got there? Maybe they fell off the end of the world or got drowned in some big storm or something. Maybe they all starved to death because they ran out of food. There's a nasty fate for a hobbit if ever there was one. What if there's no West at all and it's all just wishful thinkin'?
Stop it, Samwise Gamgee! Elves don't get to be so old without picking up a bit of sense along the way. The West was there when they left it, so it'll be there when they come back. You can't go losing half a world now, can you? Maybe that's what they mean when they say that the West isn't in the west. Oh, I don't know. It hurts my head just thinking about it.
Leastwise these folk don't seem too worried. In fact most of them seem quite pleased. I hope some of those that's remained decide to stay on in Middle earth. It makes me sad to think that, someday soon, folk there will never meet an elf; that one day elves will just be fairy stories for bairns. That don't bear thinking about and I hope somebody's written down all the tales of their doin's. Mister Bilbo was right to put down his, and I'm glad the King got Mister Frodo to write our journey too. Although I know the writin' of it pained him.
Now what's the matter? Why's everyone going to the front of the boat . . . er . . . ship?
Oh.
Oh my.
We've arrived.
And we didn't run out of food.
END
Format:Vignette
Genre:Gen
Rating:Gen
Warnings:None
Characters:Sam Gamgee
Pairings:None
Creator’s Notes (optional):None
Summary:Climb inside Sam's head on the journey West
I don't own nothin'! It was all birthed in the amazing imagination of JRR Tolkien and I am just borrowing a corner.
THE LAST RINGBEARER
At least this ship's bigger than those boats we had to row down the Anduin and I can stretch these old legs. This sea air ain't doin' my arthritis no good, but that ointment the healer gave me helps a bit.
It's funny, seeing elves again. After Mister Frodo left I went a few times to the Woody End to talk with them, but then there just weren't no time. There was the bairns to raise, and then they made me Mayor. Not that I wanted to be Mayor, but somebody had to do it and, if there's one thing that journey did, it showed me that it's dangerous to sit back and ignore things. My Gaffer weren't too pleased. He said “Folk that stick their necks out is more likely to get their heads chopped off.” He had a point, but if Mister Frodo hadn't done it, where would we be now? After he left I tried to live life as he would have liked.
I wonder if Frodo's still alive. I hope so, though I don't suppose Mister Bilbo is still around. I wonder if Frodo's been lonely without him. That's one of the reasons I've come. I don't like to think of Frodo on his own, after all he's been through. He was right to make me stay, though it pains me to admit it. I found all the healing I needed in my faunts, but my children don't need their Da any more, and Bag End reminds me too much of my Rosie. I miss her somethin' fierce.
I weren't sure the offer to sail West still held after all this time, but when I got to the crossroads it was like they'd been waitin'. The elves met me just beyond the far borders of the Westmarch, in the shadow of the elf towers. It's funny how things change. Once upon a time I'd never even seen the towers from a distance. Now half my family's dug in around them. I'll never see family nor towers again. Did I do right, comin' along?
I reckon if it weren't for the company I was keepin', Master Cirdan wouldn't have let me past the gates to the Havens. Elves who stay put in their own lands don't get to see us ordinary folk grow old. Oh, elves get old, I know that. But their bodies don't change, just their eyes. When we rode up to the gates Master Cirdan looked long and hard at me, and I wanted to check that I'd brushed my foot hair. Then he just smiled and said, “Welcome at last, Master Gamgee. The ship is waiting.” He's an elf of few words, is Master Cirdan. Maybe the older they get, the less they have to say.
Can't say I've noticed the same in the Shire. Old Daffy Brockbank don't stop talking from the moment she gets up to the moment she goes to bed. I reckon she probably talks in her sleep too. Not that anythin' she says is worth the listenin'. My Rosie now, she was a quiet one most of the time; not that she couldn't speak up when it was needed. But my favourite times with Rosie were snuggling abed in the morning, before the youngsters were up and about, or sitting in front of the parlour fire of an evenin'; her with her mendin' and me with my pipe. Oh now, there I go crying again, and I promised myself I wouldn't do that.
“Are you still in pain, Master Gamgee?” These elves is kind enough but I reckon most of them don't know what to do with an old crock like me.
“No, thank you kindly for asking. It's just the wind in my eyes.” He don't look convinced, but I'll give elves their due, they know when to leave a body alone.
I wonder how long we'll be on this boat . . . no, its a ship. Master Cirdan was very firm on that. Seems sailors get a bit uppity about you calling a ship a boat. The captain says we've food and water for five days but he don't know when we'll reach the West because, “The West is not truly in the west.” What's that word Mister Bilbo used to use about elves? Enigmatic. That's it.
We've been aboard a few days now. If nobody's ever sailed back from the West how do they know that the other ships ever got there? Maybe they fell off the end of the world or got drowned in some big storm or something. Maybe they all starved to death because they ran out of food. There's a nasty fate for a hobbit if ever there was one. What if there's no West at all and it's all just wishful thinkin'?
Stop it, Samwise Gamgee! Elves don't get to be so old without picking up a bit of sense along the way. The West was there when they left it, so it'll be there when they come back. You can't go losing half a world now, can you? Maybe that's what they mean when they say that the West isn't in the west. Oh, I don't know. It hurts my head just thinking about it.
Leastwise these folk don't seem too worried. In fact most of them seem quite pleased. I hope some of those that's remained decide to stay on in Middle earth. It makes me sad to think that, someday soon, folk there will never meet an elf; that one day elves will just be fairy stories for bairns. That don't bear thinking about and I hope somebody's written down all the tales of their doin's. Mister Bilbo was right to put down his, and I'm glad the King got Mister Frodo to write our journey too. Although I know the writin' of it pained him.
Now what's the matter? Why's everyone going to the front of the boat . . . er . . . ship?
Oh.
Oh my.
We've arrived.
And we didn't run out of food.
END
no subject
Date: 2018-03-18 08:38 pm (UTC)The ironies and resonances of this bit amused me:
The West was there when they left it, so it'll be there when they come back. You can't go losing half a world now, can you?
no subject
Date: 2018-03-18 09:08 pm (UTC)