drabbleandahalf... drabdrabble?
Jun. 6th, 2004 09:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rabidsamfanDeparture
The last time everything in Bag End had reminded him of Bilbo, but now Frodo looked around him and saw Sam. Sam was the mended chair, and the vase of chrysanthemums on the desk. Sam was the song Rosie was singing in the kitchen and the clack of the baby’s rattle, the smell of the bread, baked fresh for their journey and the sweet scent of the kingsfoil he’d planted by the window. Sam was the neatly cobbled mends in the cloak resting now on Frodo’s shoulders.
Sam was here, with the scent of ponies on him, bending to pick up the packs by the fireplace. “Are you ready, Mr. Frodo?” he asked, straightening with the burden, the pale line of the scar on his forehead barely visible under his tan and sunbleached curls.
Frodo picked up the Red Book and took one last look around.
“Yes, Sam,” he said.
Timeline (fiction only, most recent version, includes AU) first previous next last
The last time everything in Bag End had reminded him of Bilbo, but now Frodo looked around him and saw Sam. Sam was the mended chair, and the vase of chrysanthemums on the desk. Sam was the song Rosie was singing in the kitchen and the clack of the baby’s rattle, the smell of the bread, baked fresh for their journey and the sweet scent of the kingsfoil he’d planted by the window. Sam was the neatly cobbled mends in the cloak resting now on Frodo’s shoulders.
Sam was here, with the scent of ponies on him, bending to pick up the packs by the fireplace. “Are you ready, Mr. Frodo?” he asked, straightening with the burden, the pale line of the scar on his forehead barely visible under his tan and sunbleached curls.
Frodo picked up the Red Book and took one last look around.
“Yes, Sam,” he said.
Timeline (fiction only, most recent version, includes AU) first previous next last
