FYI

[rabidsamfan]

wip_amnesty will be closing for the year soon, but onedeadbunny is just getting started...

ETA Lookee in the comments! mariole has written me some Sam comfort!

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Sam h/c - because you wanted some :)

[mariole.livejournal.com]

Sam added the onions to the hot pan, hissing a little as the grease lightly spattered his hand. He popped his thumb into his mouth. Casting a wary look over his shoulder at Frodo, slicing carrots on the cutting board beyond the sink, he popped the digit from his mouth and waved the sore finger in the air to cool it.

“What’s next?” Frodo asked, still slicing. “Celery?”

“Yes, sir. And chives.” Sam took up the bundle of stalks with his left hand, to avoid using his sore right thumb.

“All right. You can drop these in.” Frodo handed him the cutting board. Surprised, Sam took it awkwardly with his right hand, and nearly dropped it.

“Careful!”

“I’ve got it, sir.” Hastily, Sam dumped the carrots into the pan to relieve the pressure on his thumb. He grimaced, holding his hand away to minimize any additional grease spatters. When he turned to hand the cutting board back to Frodo, he found his master looking grim.

“What is it, Sam?”

Sam hurriedly searched for the wooden spoon, hiding his guilty expression. “Sir?”

“Something’s wrong with your hand.”

“Naught to mention.” Finding the spoon, he stirred the vegetables briskly, tucking his thumb safely out of the way.

He was concentrating so intently on his task, he started when he felt a gentle touch on his wrist. Mr. Frodo had come up beside him. Gently, he lifted Sam’s hand and relieved it of the wooden spoon. He turned the hand over, exposing Sam’s very red-tipped thumb.

His master made a face. “What happened?”

Sam grimaced. “My own foolishness. I burnt it on a hot pan last night. It doesn’t get in my way… much.”

Mr. Frodo prodded the flesh below the burn. “You shouldn’t be cooking. This must be terribly uncomfortable close to the heat.”

“But the stuffing for Mr. Pippin’s bird! He can’t—”

“I can handle the cooking. You will do the chopping. Don’t look at me like that, Sam. I may not be as gifted a cook as yourself, but I daresay I’ll be able to muddle through well enough on your instructions, as you’ll be at my side the entire time.”

Sam hesitated. The fact was, he had the stirring of vegetables down to an art, knowing just how long to leave them in the pan afore they needed to be added to the breading, where the roasting would soften them to perfection.

But he had no chance to act upon his experience. Afore he could say another word, Mr. Frodo slid the pan off the flames, and took Sam by the wrist. “Come here.”

“Mr. Frodo,” he started to protest, but his master sat him down at the table.

“What am I do to with you, Sam?” His master smiled, but looked sad all the same. “Always so ready to help, and never a care for your own comfort.”

“Honest, Mr. Frodo. This little speck of a burn isn’t worth a worry.“

His master ignored him, stepping away to rout about on the shelf, returning almost instantly with a small vial and a cloth. “Hold out your thumb.”

Sam h/c - part 2

[mariole.livejournal.com]

Reluctantly, Sam complied. Mr. Frodo smeared a mint-smelling salve over it. Sam’s brows raised at the cooling touch. That did feel nice. But when his master reached forward to bind it in a kerchief, Sam pulled back. “I won’t be able to help, if you do that.”

Mr. Frodo frowned. “Sam. You are not going to expose this thumb to either heat or hot water tonight. It’s foolish to irritate it when you don’t have to.”

“But, the food—”

“Pippin will have plenty to satisfy him, Sam, never fear. He eats like a starved wolf. Trust me, the finer points of your wonderful cuisine are probably lost on him anyway. For this visit, he will have to make do with what I can prepare for him.”

Sam was embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to suggest your cooking was so very bad, Mr. Frodo.”

Mr. Frodo concentrated on wrapping the bandage snugly around Sam’s thumb—securely, but not too tight. “Sam, we both know who the superior cook is. You say that this burn is a trivial thing, and in the grand scheme, I suppose it is. But I know how much you use your hands. It’s pointless to expose yourself to discomfort when you don’t need to. There.” His master stood back. “How’s that?”

Sam experimentally flexed his thumb. The bandage was bulky, but it fit the curve of Sam’s thumb amazingly well. Now that his wound was protected, he had to admit that he felt a vast sight more comfortable.

He gave Mr. Frodo a brave smile. “Sir, you might claim to be the lesser cook, but you’ve done a fine job with this. Old Widow Rumble couldn’t do better.”

His master looked relieved. “You’re very generous. I know you can’t stand to be incapacitated in any way, but if you’ll humor me for this evening by keeping this bandage on, perhaps tomorrow you will notice an improvement.”

“I notice an improvement now, Mr. Frodo.”

“Excellent. All right, we’re switching places. You’ll chop, and I’ll stir. Leave all the pouring and kneading to me. Although it might kill you to do so, you are to stand and advise, and not do the work yourself. Are you ready?”

Sam surrendered to the inevitable. “Ready, Mr. Frodo.”

“Then dunk those celery stalks with your left hand, Sam. Well, get on with it! The carrots are nearly done already.”

Sam suppressed a chuckle. “You’re a right slave driver when you cook.”

Mr. Frodo looked smug. “Sometimes I have to take a firm hand with you, I admit. But it will work out all right in the end. I’m sure it will.”

“As you say, sir.” Sam swished the celery in the pot of water, careful to keep his bound hand out of harm’s way.

“A little care, and a little teamwork,” his master mused, “will get the job done. No one endures discomfort in Bag End if I can help it, my dear Sam. Even such a trivial thing as a thumb.”

Sam shook the water off the celery, surprised at the sudden lift in his spirits. “There’s naught trivial about kindness, Mr. Frodo.” He met his master’s eye. “I feel better already.”

“Good. Then let me know if I should take this pan off the heat, or wait for the celery. Come along, Sam. I await your orders.”

[rabidsamfan.livejournal.com]

Yay! Samfic! And CompetentCook!Frodo too! I do love fics where the tables get turned. Thank you, Mariole!

[mariole.livejournal.com]

This is based on a true-life incident of me burning my finger the other night! Okay, so it isn't great h/c, but it's the best I could come up with at the moment. I hope it cheered you up a little. Hang in there!