Post by Admin on Jan 2, 2021 4:29:06 GMT
Author: Cassie Hughes
Challenge: Journeys
Rating: K
The old hobbit sat, dozing in the warmth of the summer sun, allowing the happy chatter of childish voices to wash over his aged ears. He felt so tired now, all the time. The life seemed to have gone out of him after Rosie’s passing somehow, as if it were she that had kept him going, giving him a reason to carry on. He smiled at the memory of her laughing face, surrounded by the dancing brown curls that never would be tamed. Ah, she was a beauty. The fairest hobbit lass ever to grace the shire. His heart swelled with both love and despair and for a moment tears nudged at the corners of his faded eyes, then he heard a sweet young voice rise above the rest as his granddaughter began a song he had taught her mother as a child and he smiled and counted his blessings. He had had a good life, all things considered.
It was then his mind began to wander back to his impetuous youth and the only time he had ever left his home. Looking back now it all felt like a dream, something done by another, braver hobbit, and when his grandchildren came begging for the story of Mr Frodo and the Ring, and sat entranced at it’s telling that is what it became in his mind. A story. A tale to while away the time and gently frighten the younglings into good behaviour. He felt detached from it as it turned into myth and his part grew smaller and smaller with each telling. His mouth twitched into a smile. That was how it should be.
The song continued and he stayed, lulled under the sweet melody, feeling himself give in to the pull of sleep until something changed. At first he was unaware, then he realised that the song had altered and with it had brought a different voice, a voice he knew he had heard before but for a brief moment in his half asleep state, could not place. Then suddenly he knew and his eyes shot open as he struggled to gain his feet to greet his royal visitor.
“Nay, Master Samwise.” A musical voice trilled as a slender hand gently rested itself upon his shoulder. “Do not disturb yourself on my account.”
“Begging your pardon, my Lord.” His own voice sounded rough and uncouth in his own ears. “I would give you proper welcome and greeting.” He paused, suddenly feeling young and tongue tied once more as he had always been in the presence of elves. “Only, I find I am not as spry of movement as I once was.”
Tinkling laughter followed this pronouncement as the elf knelt down to smile into Sam’s face then leaned in to softly speak.
“That is why I am here my friend.”
The hobbit peered quizzically over, marvelling that after all these years Legolas appeared exactly the same as he had when first they met in Rivendell.
“Your toils are over. It is almost time for you to rest.”
Sam felt a sense of peace and relief wash over him at the elf’s soft words.
“Come with me Samwise.” The prince stood and held out his hand. “Your master awaits.”
“Mister Frodo?”
Suddenly feeling lighter of heart and body than he had in a long time Sam took the offered hand and rose to his feet. Noticing for the first time that the light had begun to fade and with its diminishing the children must have silently crept away to leave him in peaceful slumber.
“I can go to see Mister Frodo?” Puzzlement etched itself on the hobbits wrinkled face. “But I thought he had gone over the sea.”
“And you thought correctly, my friend.” Legolas smiled as they made their way from the small garden, through the round, green door and into the house. “You will need to pack for a very long journey indeed.”
Challenge: Journeys
Rating: K
The old hobbit sat, dozing in the warmth of the summer sun, allowing the happy chatter of childish voices to wash over his aged ears. He felt so tired now, all the time. The life seemed to have gone out of him after Rosie’s passing somehow, as if it were she that had kept him going, giving him a reason to carry on. He smiled at the memory of her laughing face, surrounded by the dancing brown curls that never would be tamed. Ah, she was a beauty. The fairest hobbit lass ever to grace the shire. His heart swelled with both love and despair and for a moment tears nudged at the corners of his faded eyes, then he heard a sweet young voice rise above the rest as his granddaughter began a song he had taught her mother as a child and he smiled and counted his blessings. He had had a good life, all things considered.
It was then his mind began to wander back to his impetuous youth and the only time he had ever left his home. Looking back now it all felt like a dream, something done by another, braver hobbit, and when his grandchildren came begging for the story of Mr Frodo and the Ring, and sat entranced at it’s telling that is what it became in his mind. A story. A tale to while away the time and gently frighten the younglings into good behaviour. He felt detached from it as it turned into myth and his part grew smaller and smaller with each telling. His mouth twitched into a smile. That was how it should be.
The song continued and he stayed, lulled under the sweet melody, feeling himself give in to the pull of sleep until something changed. At first he was unaware, then he realised that the song had altered and with it had brought a different voice, a voice he knew he had heard before but for a brief moment in his half asleep state, could not place. Then suddenly he knew and his eyes shot open as he struggled to gain his feet to greet his royal visitor.
“Nay, Master Samwise.” A musical voice trilled as a slender hand gently rested itself upon his shoulder. “Do not disturb yourself on my account.”
“Begging your pardon, my Lord.” His own voice sounded rough and uncouth in his own ears. “I would give you proper welcome and greeting.” He paused, suddenly feeling young and tongue tied once more as he had always been in the presence of elves. “Only, I find I am not as spry of movement as I once was.”
Tinkling laughter followed this pronouncement as the elf knelt down to smile into Sam’s face then leaned in to softly speak.
“That is why I am here my friend.”
The hobbit peered quizzically over, marvelling that after all these years Legolas appeared exactly the same as he had when first they met in Rivendell.
“Your toils are over. It is almost time for you to rest.”
Sam felt a sense of peace and relief wash over him at the elf’s soft words.
“Come with me Samwise.” The prince stood and held out his hand. “Your master awaits.”
“Mister Frodo?”
Suddenly feeling lighter of heart and body than he had in a long time Sam took the offered hand and rose to his feet. Noticing for the first time that the light had begun to fade and with its diminishing the children must have silently crept away to leave him in peaceful slumber.
“I can go to see Mister Frodo?” Puzzlement etched itself on the hobbits wrinkled face. “But I thought he had gone over the sea.”
“And you thought correctly, my friend.” Legolas smiled as they made their way from the small garden, through the round, green door and into the house. “You will need to pack for a very long journey indeed.”