Holiday drabble, ficlet, thingy
Nov. 27th, 2004 04:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
auntiemeeshThis one is for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dreamflower02 who requested the four lads and Strider, either on or just after the Quest. It's a bit long (being more a thingy than a drabble or ficlet, I suppose) as each of the lads insisted on getting their fair share of attention.
Night Walking
Mr. Frodo and his cousins might enjoy night walks, Sam reflected as he trudged along, but these night treks across Hollin were wearying. He needed the sun every bit as much as his plants did, in order to thrive. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes and continued to march along. It was a dark night, with no moon to light their way, and the ground was uneven, with many hazards to trip up the unwary. To his left, Sam heard Mr. Merry trip and curse. That lad had a mouth on him, for a gentlehobbit. From further to his left came a sharp reprimand, as Mr. Frodo took the young Bucklander in hand.
An hour passed, and then another. Sam’s eyes would insist on closing, despite his best efforts. Shaking his head to wake himself a bit, he sighed and carried on, unaware when his eyes started to close again. Next thing he knew, he was lying at the bottom of a short but steep slope. He didn’t remember falling, but he felt the bruises of the fall, none the less. Well, that was one way to wake himself up, he thought ruefully. He certainly didn’t feel sleepy anymore.
Standing up carefully, he brushed himself off, satisfied that he wasn’t seriously injured. Looking around, he tried to see where he had rolled down from, but in the dark he couldn’t find his trail. He seemed to be in a gully of some sort. It was a bit muddy at the bottom and he supposed the gully collected runoff when it rained. Meanwhile, he wasn’t entirely sure which slope he’d come down by, and it wouldn’t do no good to go wandering about in the dark, with no clue where’s he was going.
“Mr. Frodo?” he called softly, hoping that only friendly ears were listening. There was no response. “Mr. Frodo? Strider?” he called again, a bit louder.
“Sam? Where are you?” That was Strider’s voice and Sam felt a rush of relief that he hadn’t been left behind.
“I’m down here, Strider, sir. In a bit of a gully, as it were.”
“Stay there, Sam, we’re coming to get you.” That was Mr. Frodo’s voice, with a hint of amusement mingling with concern. The next minute, several shadowy outlines appeared at the crest of the slope, standing out only slightly against the starlit sky.
“Can you reach my hand, Sam?” That was Strider again, and Sam could see one of the shadows elongating, reaching out towards him. He stretched up as high as he could but couldn’t reach the offered hand. He tried stepping up the side of the gully, but was unable to get any purchase on the steep slope.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t reach.”
“No matter, Sam. Give us a moment and we’ll have you up with us.” The shadow withdrew a bit, and the figures all huddled together, conferring in low voices. Sam could hear just enough to know that it was only the hobbits and Strider up there. He wondered where everyone else was, and hoped that no one else knew he’d been sleepwalking.
“All right, Sam. I’m lowering a good, sturdy branch down to you. I want you to hold on to the end as tight as tight, and I’ll pull you up. Can you do that?”
“Course I can.” Sam had his doubts, to be honest, but it wouldn’t do to say that. If Strider thought this was a good plan, then there was no use arguing about it.
It was hard to see the branch, but finally Sam got his hands around it and grasped as tightly as he could.
“Right, Mr. Strider, pull away, I’m ready.” As ready as I’ll ever be, he amended to himself. Holding fast to the branch as it began to tug in his hands, he walked up the slope. The dirt crumbled a bit under his feet and it was rough going, but after a few sweaty minutes, he felt several pairs of hands latch onto his arms and help him along. Another minute and he was standing on level ground once again.
Merry, Pippin, and Frodo immediately surrounded him, making sure he was safe and unharmed by his experience. As his heart slowed and he began to calm down, he became aware of numerous stinging cuts and a rather painful bruise on the point of his right shoulder.
Once he was reassured that Sam had taken no undue harm from his fall, Strider began shepherding the hobbits along. “The others should be just a short distance ahead. I asked Gandalf to find a good place to rest for the day.”
Surprised, Sam looked up and realized that, indeed, the stars were beginning to fade and there was a faint hint of light in the east. They caught up to the others within about ten minutes and by then Sam was ready to sit. His legs were shaking a bit in response to the fright he’d had, and he rather thought his friends looked a bit shaky as well. Gandalf had found a well-sheltered place to rest and Strider decided to risk a small fire, so as to make a bit of tea for the four shaken hobbits.
By the time the tea was ready, the sun had poked her nose above the horizon and the little hollow they were sitting in was growing light. The tea went far towards soothing Sam’s rattled nerves and when it was gone, he felt ready to take up his responsibilities and start preparing breakfast.
***
Pippin looked up as Sam moved over to the small fire. Good, he thought to himself. Sam was clearly feeling a bit better. It could have been quite serious, he reflected, if that little gully had been much deeper. Luckily, Sam had a hard head and hadn’t suffered anything more than scratches and bruised dignity. He grinned as he thought of the language he’d heard from the gardener while they were pulling him up. He rather doubted Sam had even been aware that he was cursing steadily the entire time. Pulling out a small journal, quill and ink he’d brought with him from Rivendell, he set to writing the little adventure down.
Frodo and Merry, having seen the journal before, paid him little attention, but he was taken by surprise when Strider sat down next to him.
“I hope you are not writing anything that will make your friend uncomfortable should he come to see it.” The ranger looked at Pippin gravely, but the young hobbit could clearly see a twinkle in the his eyes.
“I’m just keeping a log of our travels, that’s all,” he replied as innocently as he could. “It will help Frodo when it’s time to relay all our adventures to Bilbo.”
“Yes, I’m sure. You’ve forgotten one.” Strider leaned over and spoke quietly into Pippin’s ears for a moment. Pippin turned bright red as the ranger moved away, but he wrote quickly, not wanting to forget what he’d said. That particular phrase was one Pippin hadn’t heard before and it would take some studying before he felt confident that he really knew the right circumstances for its use.
***
“You really shouldn’t be encouraging Pippin like that,” Frodo admonished as he settled next to Strider on a rock. “The lad’s vocabulary is colorful enough as is.”
“I’m sorry, Frodo, I couldn’t help myself.” The ranger chuckled quietly. “It really was quite funny. I’ve never heard such language from Master Gamgee before. Merry, frequently, Pippin occasionally, but never Sam.”
“Yes, well you know Sam. Always very concerned about propriety. He doesn’t feel that it would be proper to use rough language in the presence of his ‘betters’. I’ve heard him speak that way before, but only when he thinks I’m nowhere near.” Frodo laughed a bit, himself, thinking maybe Sam was beginning to relax his guard a bit.
***
Merry strolled over to where Sam sat absently rubbing his shoulder. “Do you want me to ask Strider to come have a look at that for you?”
“Oh, no, Mr. Merry. I’m fine.” Sam looked alarmed at the suggestion.
Merry smiled reassuringly. “Really, Sam, you should let someone look at it. If not Strider, let me, at least.”
Sam seemed to be weighing this in his mind, and finally relented, pulling his shirt off so Merry could take a look at the bruise. It was nasty looking, spreading over the point of Sam’s shoulder in deep shades of blue and purple. He hissed when Merry gently probed it with his fingers.
“Ah, that’s nothing to worry about then, although I think you’re going to be sore for a few days. Nothing broken and it’s not terribly swollen.” He paused and then a twinkle came to his eyes. “You know Pippin is never going to let you live this down, don’t you? He’s been scribbling away in that book of his all morning.” Grinning, he walked away.
Sam groaned in dismay. Maybe there was some way to make that book disappear. Yes, that was it. Somewhere along the line, Pippin was sure to lose the book. Sam clutched that thought tightly to him as he went to start packing up his cooking supplies, hoping never to hear of this morning’s adventure again.
dreamflower02 who requested the four lads and Strider, either on or just after the Quest. It's a bit long (being more a thingy than a drabble or ficlet, I suppose) as each of the lads insisted on getting their fair share of attention.Night Walking
Mr. Frodo and his cousins might enjoy night walks, Sam reflected as he trudged along, but these night treks across Hollin were wearying. He needed the sun every bit as much as his plants did, in order to thrive. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes and continued to march along. It was a dark night, with no moon to light their way, and the ground was uneven, with many hazards to trip up the unwary. To his left, Sam heard Mr. Merry trip and curse. That lad had a mouth on him, for a gentlehobbit. From further to his left came a sharp reprimand, as Mr. Frodo took the young Bucklander in hand.
An hour passed, and then another. Sam’s eyes would insist on closing, despite his best efforts. Shaking his head to wake himself a bit, he sighed and carried on, unaware when his eyes started to close again. Next thing he knew, he was lying at the bottom of a short but steep slope. He didn’t remember falling, but he felt the bruises of the fall, none the less. Well, that was one way to wake himself up, he thought ruefully. He certainly didn’t feel sleepy anymore.
Standing up carefully, he brushed himself off, satisfied that he wasn’t seriously injured. Looking around, he tried to see where he had rolled down from, but in the dark he couldn’t find his trail. He seemed to be in a gully of some sort. It was a bit muddy at the bottom and he supposed the gully collected runoff when it rained. Meanwhile, he wasn’t entirely sure which slope he’d come down by, and it wouldn’t do no good to go wandering about in the dark, with no clue where’s he was going.
“Mr. Frodo?” he called softly, hoping that only friendly ears were listening. There was no response. “Mr. Frodo? Strider?” he called again, a bit louder.
“Sam? Where are you?” That was Strider’s voice and Sam felt a rush of relief that he hadn’t been left behind.
“I’m down here, Strider, sir. In a bit of a gully, as it were.”
“Stay there, Sam, we’re coming to get you.” That was Mr. Frodo’s voice, with a hint of amusement mingling with concern. The next minute, several shadowy outlines appeared at the crest of the slope, standing out only slightly against the starlit sky.
“Can you reach my hand, Sam?” That was Strider again, and Sam could see one of the shadows elongating, reaching out towards him. He stretched up as high as he could but couldn’t reach the offered hand. He tried stepping up the side of the gully, but was unable to get any purchase on the steep slope.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t reach.”
“No matter, Sam. Give us a moment and we’ll have you up with us.” The shadow withdrew a bit, and the figures all huddled together, conferring in low voices. Sam could hear just enough to know that it was only the hobbits and Strider up there. He wondered where everyone else was, and hoped that no one else knew he’d been sleepwalking.
“All right, Sam. I’m lowering a good, sturdy branch down to you. I want you to hold on to the end as tight as tight, and I’ll pull you up. Can you do that?”
“Course I can.” Sam had his doubts, to be honest, but it wouldn’t do to say that. If Strider thought this was a good plan, then there was no use arguing about it.
It was hard to see the branch, but finally Sam got his hands around it and grasped as tightly as he could.
“Right, Mr. Strider, pull away, I’m ready.” As ready as I’ll ever be, he amended to himself. Holding fast to the branch as it began to tug in his hands, he walked up the slope. The dirt crumbled a bit under his feet and it was rough going, but after a few sweaty minutes, he felt several pairs of hands latch onto his arms and help him along. Another minute and he was standing on level ground once again.
Merry, Pippin, and Frodo immediately surrounded him, making sure he was safe and unharmed by his experience. As his heart slowed and he began to calm down, he became aware of numerous stinging cuts and a rather painful bruise on the point of his right shoulder.
Once he was reassured that Sam had taken no undue harm from his fall, Strider began shepherding the hobbits along. “The others should be just a short distance ahead. I asked Gandalf to find a good place to rest for the day.”
Surprised, Sam looked up and realized that, indeed, the stars were beginning to fade and there was a faint hint of light in the east. They caught up to the others within about ten minutes and by then Sam was ready to sit. His legs were shaking a bit in response to the fright he’d had, and he rather thought his friends looked a bit shaky as well. Gandalf had found a well-sheltered place to rest and Strider decided to risk a small fire, so as to make a bit of tea for the four shaken hobbits.
By the time the tea was ready, the sun had poked her nose above the horizon and the little hollow they were sitting in was growing light. The tea went far towards soothing Sam’s rattled nerves and when it was gone, he felt ready to take up his responsibilities and start preparing breakfast.
***
Pippin looked up as Sam moved over to the small fire. Good, he thought to himself. Sam was clearly feeling a bit better. It could have been quite serious, he reflected, if that little gully had been much deeper. Luckily, Sam had a hard head and hadn’t suffered anything more than scratches and bruised dignity. He grinned as he thought of the language he’d heard from the gardener while they were pulling him up. He rather doubted Sam had even been aware that he was cursing steadily the entire time. Pulling out a small journal, quill and ink he’d brought with him from Rivendell, he set to writing the little adventure down.
Frodo and Merry, having seen the journal before, paid him little attention, but he was taken by surprise when Strider sat down next to him.
“I hope you are not writing anything that will make your friend uncomfortable should he come to see it.” The ranger looked at Pippin gravely, but the young hobbit could clearly see a twinkle in the his eyes.
“I’m just keeping a log of our travels, that’s all,” he replied as innocently as he could. “It will help Frodo when it’s time to relay all our adventures to Bilbo.”
“Yes, I’m sure. You’ve forgotten one.” Strider leaned over and spoke quietly into Pippin’s ears for a moment. Pippin turned bright red as the ranger moved away, but he wrote quickly, not wanting to forget what he’d said. That particular phrase was one Pippin hadn’t heard before and it would take some studying before he felt confident that he really knew the right circumstances for its use.
***
“You really shouldn’t be encouraging Pippin like that,” Frodo admonished as he settled next to Strider on a rock. “The lad’s vocabulary is colorful enough as is.”
“I’m sorry, Frodo, I couldn’t help myself.” The ranger chuckled quietly. “It really was quite funny. I’ve never heard such language from Master Gamgee before. Merry, frequently, Pippin occasionally, but never Sam.”
“Yes, well you know Sam. Always very concerned about propriety. He doesn’t feel that it would be proper to use rough language in the presence of his ‘betters’. I’ve heard him speak that way before, but only when he thinks I’m nowhere near.” Frodo laughed a bit, himself, thinking maybe Sam was beginning to relax his guard a bit.
***
Merry strolled over to where Sam sat absently rubbing his shoulder. “Do you want me to ask Strider to come have a look at that for you?”
“Oh, no, Mr. Merry. I’m fine.” Sam looked alarmed at the suggestion.
Merry smiled reassuringly. “Really, Sam, you should let someone look at it. If not Strider, let me, at least.”
Sam seemed to be weighing this in his mind, and finally relented, pulling his shirt off so Merry could take a look at the bruise. It was nasty looking, spreading over the point of Sam’s shoulder in deep shades of blue and purple. He hissed when Merry gently probed it with his fingers.
“Ah, that’s nothing to worry about then, although I think you’re going to be sore for a few days. Nothing broken and it’s not terribly swollen.” He paused and then a twinkle came to his eyes. “You know Pippin is never going to let you live this down, don’t you? He’s been scribbling away in that book of his all morning.” Grinning, he walked away.
Sam groaned in dismay. Maybe there was some way to make that book disappear. Yes, that was it. Somewhere along the line, Pippin was sure to lose the book. Sam clutched that thought tightly to him as he went to start packing up his cooking supplies, hoping never to hear of this morning’s adventure again.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-27 01:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-27 07:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-27 03:18 pm (UTC)*wishes she'd asked for a drabble* ;)
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Date: 2004-11-27 07:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-27 04:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-27 07:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-27 04:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-27 07:25 pm (UTC)I don't have any particular scene in mind, but if you'd like to do a Merry and Frodo interaction of some sort, I would love that. :)
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Date: 2004-11-28 01:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-28 07:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-28 01:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-28 07:55 am (UTC)