(no subject)
Aug. 23rd, 2004 08:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rabidsamfanGrieving
The third time he jerked awake and found himself sitting sweat-soaked in the darkness he disturbed Frodo, who turned on his pillow and said “Sam?” in a tone that meant he was still half-dreaming.
“It’s nothing, Mr. Frodo,” Sam lied, unwilling to share his misery. “I must’ve et too fast is all.” And that might be true, if the hard twisted knot in his stomach meant anything. He’d barely tasted the supper Rosie and her mother had set out, what with trying to see that Frodo got a decent portion, and listening to old Will Whitfoot and Fatty Bolger tell their tales.
So many folks had been hurt so bad, and too much of it long after the Ring had gone into the Fire. Had all that long walking and misery been for nowt after all? Had the Shadow only lingered in the Shire because of Saruman, or was the stain of it so thick in the world that they would never be free no more?
Sam bit back a groan, and wrapped his arms tight around his chest, but the grief inside was swelling up like a thunderstorm and he knew he’d burst. He pulled himself out from under the blankets and stepped carefully past Pippin and Merry, bundled in their traveling cloaks on the floor. His hand shook, and he nearly tipped over the chair where he’d left his own cloak in trying to extract it from the tangle of armor, but somehow he managed and crept out of the room.
The snores of the Cotton brothers warned him as he crossed the kitchen. They’d given up their beds to the rescued hobbits and the Travelers and Sam’s own Gaffer, tucked safe into the warmest bed in the house. In the dim light of the coals he could see the clubs and bows that Jolly and the others had kept close to hand. But Sam had had even more practice than most hobbits at going quietly, and he slipped out the door unnoticed.
Down the path, past the privy, out into the pasture where the dozing cows acknowledged his presence with ponderous shifts into new positions until he reached the far fence and the scrap of what was truly wasteland now, with all the birch trees gone from it. And there he swore and beat uselessly against the mangled stumps until his hands grew sore and he’d used up every word he knew to keep back tears. And at the last he sat and drew his cloak around him, half aware of the November wind so cold on sweat and tear-damp skin, and did not see the stars look down to guard him as he wept.
Timeline (fiction only, most recent version, includes AU) first previous next last
The third time he jerked awake and found himself sitting sweat-soaked in the darkness he disturbed Frodo, who turned on his pillow and said “Sam?” in a tone that meant he was still half-dreaming.
“It’s nothing, Mr. Frodo,” Sam lied, unwilling to share his misery. “I must’ve et too fast is all.” And that might be true, if the hard twisted knot in his stomach meant anything. He’d barely tasted the supper Rosie and her mother had set out, what with trying to see that Frodo got a decent portion, and listening to old Will Whitfoot and Fatty Bolger tell their tales.
So many folks had been hurt so bad, and too much of it long after the Ring had gone into the Fire. Had all that long walking and misery been for nowt after all? Had the Shadow only lingered in the Shire because of Saruman, or was the stain of it so thick in the world that they would never be free no more?
Sam bit back a groan, and wrapped his arms tight around his chest, but the grief inside was swelling up like a thunderstorm and he knew he’d burst. He pulled himself out from under the blankets and stepped carefully past Pippin and Merry, bundled in their traveling cloaks on the floor. His hand shook, and he nearly tipped over the chair where he’d left his own cloak in trying to extract it from the tangle of armor, but somehow he managed and crept out of the room.
The snores of the Cotton brothers warned him as he crossed the kitchen. They’d given up their beds to the rescued hobbits and the Travelers and Sam’s own Gaffer, tucked safe into the warmest bed in the house. In the dim light of the coals he could see the clubs and bows that Jolly and the others had kept close to hand. But Sam had had even more practice than most hobbits at going quietly, and he slipped out the door unnoticed.
Down the path, past the privy, out into the pasture where the dozing cows acknowledged his presence with ponderous shifts into new positions until he reached the far fence and the scrap of what was truly wasteland now, with all the birch trees gone from it. And there he swore and beat uselessly against the mangled stumps until his hands grew sore and he’d used up every word he knew to keep back tears. And at the last he sat and drew his cloak around him, half aware of the November wind so cold on sweat and tear-damp skin, and did not see the stars look down to guard him as he wept.
Timeline (fiction only, most recent version, includes AU) first previous next last
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(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 01:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:21 am (UTC)*gah*
That last line is just... perfect, that's what it is.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:29 am (UTC)Perfect.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 06:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 01:03 am (UTC)*bawl*
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 01:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:30 pm (UTC)Thanks
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 01:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 02:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:32 pm (UTC)Re: Grieving
Date: 2004-08-24 04:29 am (UTC)Re: Grieving
Date: 2004-08-24 12:33 pm (UTC)Thanks.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 06:24 am (UTC)Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:34 pm (UTC)You're welcome
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 06:34 am (UTC)You have an amazing talent !
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:35 pm (UTC)Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 08:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 11:46 am (UTC)You have such a way with words, my good woman. That was amazing. I'll have to have a separate memories folder just for you!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 12:41 pm (UTC)Yes, Sam is glum upon occasion during the quest, and pretty shattered when he thinks Frodo is dead, but the damage to the Shire and the trees must have sent him into a tailspin if he didn't think of Galadrial's gift for weeks. The habit of hard work may have disguised some of his grief, but I think he felt it very strongly all the same.
Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 05:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 07:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 07:06 pm (UTC)Wonderful job. You've left me breathless.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-24 07:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-25 12:37 am (UTC)Wow.
Wow.
The mangled stumps. That did me in. That said so much.
Sam's heart is so broken over the devastation and the losses, and the irrevocable changes, and it's so succinctly captured in your tale. All I can do is repeat -- WOW.
And pass the link on a some friends who HAVE to read this.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-25 01:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-27 12:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-27 10:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-02 12:13 am (UTC)I hope you are feeling better now.