Storybit -- "R & R"
Mar. 20th, 2004 10:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rabidsamfanLike "1420" below, this is part of a story that I've tentatively titled "The Ringbearer and the Rose" and is set early in the morning of March 25th of that year.
"Rosie, has there been any word from Sam?" Frodo asked when she came in to open the curtains in the morning.
"Not yet, Mr. Frodo," she said, but she straightened a moment later and shielded her eyes with one hand. "Wait. That's him."
Frodo got out of bed and went to the window. He could see see a distant figure, coming down the Hill slowly, with a pony following lamefooted behind. But she was right, it had to be Sam for as the sun rose higher, it glinted off the gold mail he still wore when he travelled in case any of the ruffians had lingered. "I wonder what happened to Bill," Frodo said.
Rose jumped a little at the discovery he was beside her. "Oh, Mr. Frodo, are you sure you should be out of bed? You took such a bad turn the other day."
"It was a passing thing," he reassured her, and at her doubtful look smiled. "Truly. Please don't tell Sam about it. He'd only fret."
"He's turned aside..."
"Going to see the Gaffer, I expect." Frodo put a hand on her shoulder. "Sam tends the things he loves."
"Well he doesn't love himself much then," she said indignantly. "As tired as he's been the last two times he's come home, you'd think he'd stop for a day or two. And what kept him so long this time I don't know. He drives himself like he's got to see the whole Shire put back the way it was and he's the only one can do it; and if he'd just once ask for help he'd find out that I..."
"That you love him?" Frodo said, into her sudden silence.
"I do," she whispered. "But it's you he looks for first."
Frodo didn't know what to say to that. To his astonishment, she reached for his maimed hand and and took it in her own, much the way that Sam did sometimes, to reassure him that it was not shameful. "He won't say what happened, except that you had a hard time of it," she said softly. "Says it's not a story he can tell, and then goes and works all the harder so he can sleep without dreaming. Sam without words! All my life I've listened to him telling tales, and now the one tale I most want to hear and he can't bear to tell it to me."
"It's a year ago today since I knew he was coming home," she went on.. "But he's not arrived yet, not all the way, has he? No more than you have."
"It wasn't home we found, when we came back," Frodo said, his eye following the line of small saplings that should have been tall trees. "Not the Shire we'd dreamed about -- the one he held in his heart." He smiled at the lass before him. "He held you in his heart, too."
"I'd have gone with him if he'd asked me," she said, her bright blue eyes meeting Frodo's. "To see the elves and all. I've dreamed of it since I was a littling. But he never did ask."
"He couldn't. Gandalf made him promise to keep the secret. And Merry and Pippin had guessed beforehand. I should have left them all behind and safe, if I could."
"You'd have broken Sam's heart if you had," Rosie said. "And the ruffians would have broken his head when they started digging up Bagshot Row. He'd have been in the lockholes sooner than Will Whitfoot! There wasn't no safety here, Mr. Frodo. Not while the Enemy was hunting the Ring and the Shadow growing all the while."
"And then Saruman came and made things worse," Frodo said.
"No," she said, her eyes distant. "No the worst was before -- wakin' up in the morning and feeling like there wasn't no point in fighting back against the changes anymore than you could hold back the rain by shouting rhymes at it. Waitin' for winter to end, and the sun so thin in the sky it couldn't hardly be said to be shinin' at all."
"I never knew the Shadow reached so far," Frodo said sadly.
"And why not? It's the same air here as anywhere else.”
"Rosie, has there been any word from Sam?" Frodo asked when she came in to open the curtains in the morning.
"Not yet, Mr. Frodo," she said, but she straightened a moment later and shielded her eyes with one hand. "Wait. That's him."
Frodo got out of bed and went to the window. He could see see a distant figure, coming down the Hill slowly, with a pony following lamefooted behind. But she was right, it had to be Sam for as the sun rose higher, it glinted off the gold mail he still wore when he travelled in case any of the ruffians had lingered. "I wonder what happened to Bill," Frodo said.
Rose jumped a little at the discovery he was beside her. "Oh, Mr. Frodo, are you sure you should be out of bed? You took such a bad turn the other day."
"It was a passing thing," he reassured her, and at her doubtful look smiled. "Truly. Please don't tell Sam about it. He'd only fret."
"He's turned aside..."
"Going to see the Gaffer, I expect." Frodo put a hand on her shoulder. "Sam tends the things he loves."
"Well he doesn't love himself much then," she said indignantly. "As tired as he's been the last two times he's come home, you'd think he'd stop for a day or two. And what kept him so long this time I don't know. He drives himself like he's got to see the whole Shire put back the way it was and he's the only one can do it; and if he'd just once ask for help he'd find out that I..."
"That you love him?" Frodo said, into her sudden silence.
"I do," she whispered. "But it's you he looks for first."
Frodo didn't know what to say to that. To his astonishment, she reached for his maimed hand and and took it in her own, much the way that Sam did sometimes, to reassure him that it was not shameful. "He won't say what happened, except that you had a hard time of it," she said softly. "Says it's not a story he can tell, and then goes and works all the harder so he can sleep without dreaming. Sam without words! All my life I've listened to him telling tales, and now the one tale I most want to hear and he can't bear to tell it to me."
"It's a year ago today since I knew he was coming home," she went on.. "But he's not arrived yet, not all the way, has he? No more than you have."
"It wasn't home we found, when we came back," Frodo said, his eye following the line of small saplings that should have been tall trees. "Not the Shire we'd dreamed about -- the one he held in his heart." He smiled at the lass before him. "He held you in his heart, too."
"I'd have gone with him if he'd asked me," she said, her bright blue eyes meeting Frodo's. "To see the elves and all. I've dreamed of it since I was a littling. But he never did ask."
"He couldn't. Gandalf made him promise to keep the secret. And Merry and Pippin had guessed beforehand. I should have left them all behind and safe, if I could."
"You'd have broken Sam's heart if you had," Rosie said. "And the ruffians would have broken his head when they started digging up Bagshot Row. He'd have been in the lockholes sooner than Will Whitfoot! There wasn't no safety here, Mr. Frodo. Not while the Enemy was hunting the Ring and the Shadow growing all the while."
"And then Saruman came and made things worse," Frodo said.
"No," she said, her eyes distant. "No the worst was before -- wakin' up in the morning and feeling like there wasn't no point in fighting back against the changes anymore than you could hold back the rain by shouting rhymes at it. Waitin' for winter to end, and the sun so thin in the sky it couldn't hardly be said to be shinin' at all."
"I never knew the Shadow reached so far," Frodo said sadly.
"And why not? It's the same air here as anywhere else.”
