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elderberrywine) wrote2010-01-21 09:52 pm
elderberrywine) wrote2010-01-21 09:52 pm
Re-post from Waymeet
This is a re-post from the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
waymeet "Take Five" challenge. I chose "Five baths at Crickhollow".
Title: An Evening in the Country
Author: Elderberry Wine
Pairing: F/S (do I really need to tell you this? :D)
Rating: Mature (ditto here?)
Word count: 1149
Summary: Alpha version canon. What could have been. Not part of any series.
“Hoy, there, Pip, that very nearly put my pipe out!” exclaimed a startled Merry as a great spout of water and bubbles emerged from Peregrin Took’s tub.
“But you remember them, now, don’t you, Merry?” Pippin was not chastised in the least, as he appealed to his cousin for confirmation. “They were enormous, and came right out of the stream, you know. Sam, you saw them, didn’t you?”
“Sam was no doubt preoccupied with other matters,” Frodo hastily interposed, as Sam fixed the younger hobbit with a steely gaze. “But here, now, Pip, you’ve got the floor positively awash with suds.”
“Floor was muddy anyways,” Sam murmured, shrugging and relaxing back into the bubbles in his own tub. “All that rain out there today. Not a proper day t’go fishing, no how.”
“Now there’s a sensible lad,” calmly observed Fatty, with a lanky shin dangling over the side of his own copper tub. “Fishing’s pleasant enough on a nice day, but on the back end of autumn, it’s usually not that day.”
“But you know,” Pippin quickly observed, since after all, he had been the origin of the proposal in question, “it’s lovely afterwards, isn’t it, to sit in a proper tub full of hot water, not to mention this superb bath oil. It bubbles so very nicely. Wherever did you get it, Frodo?”
“Sam distilled it last summer,” Frodo dreamily replied, his elbows on the sides of his tub and his fingers dangling lazily in the water. “Lavender, you know.”
“I thought that was it,” Merry pronounced with satisfaction. “But what foresight to have five tubs on hand, Frodo. How did you know you’d have need of five tubs at once?”
Sam gave a slight snort at that comment, and ducked under the water.
Frodo laughed, and gave him a fond look. “Bought them for Bill, actually. For carrots and apples and whatnot. But he’s a generous pony and doesn’t mind sharing.”
“Fortunate that they come hobbit-size as well. Except for the pair of you. I must confess I find it preposterous to wrap my head around this wild tale of tipping back one with the trees as being the cause of it.” Fatty fixed a severe eye on Pippin, as being the one most likely to confess otherwise.
“There are many things, outside of the Shire, that you would have a hard time wrapping your head about, Fatty, and drinking with the trees is very likely the least of them,” Merry laughed, coming to Pippin’s assistance. “But the fact is, here we are, and it’s providential that some of these tubs come in particularly large sizes. You should have heard my mother go on about my wardrobe, when we got back. It all had to be redone, you know.”
Pippin grinned at that memory. “Mine as well. But that gave my sisters something to do. I must say, Pearl took her demotion from possible Thain rather well. Went on about not wanting to be in the public eye anyway, although I can’t really see what is so bad about that.”
“I can certainly appreciate her views on the matter,” Frodo murmured, rather quietly, but Sam shot him a concerned glance all the same.
“Well, I’ve given up asking the two of you about your adventures outside of the Shire,” Fatty cocked an eyebrow in Frodo’s direction. “When one comes back with bits missing, it couldn’t have been a pleasant excursion,” he continued mildly, forbearing to mention that the twisted white scar on Frodo’s shoulder told otherwise as well. “And Sam here has never quite gotten back that pleasing plumpness he had about him before all of you disappeared into the Old Forest. But my chief question, Frodo, is what possessed you to sell off Bag End and retire to this forsaken corner of the Shire? Not that Lobelia minds being Mistress of Bag End in the least, I assure you.”
“A new beginning, I suppose,” Frodo murmured somewhat self-consciously, feeling Merry and Pippin’s gaze on him as well. “Didn’t especially care to be Master of anything in particular.”
“They seem to still be after you to be Mayor at Michael Delving, you know,” Merry mentioned quietly, pulling his pipe out from his mouth and eying it critically.
“Actually, they’ve rather given up on me, and are going for Sam instead,” Frodo gave the once-again submerged hobbit a wry grin. “Don’t pretend you can’t hear us down there, Sam.”
“Well, now, look at the time,” Sam gave up all pretense of bathing and rose, with a slosh of suds, to his feet. “If the lot of you wish t’be havin’ any supper at all, I’d best get to work. And there’s some taters as need peelin’, me dear.”
Frodo grinned more broadly, and rose up as well. “Here, cousins, and I suppose that includes you too, as well, Fatty. See to this floor, and toss the bathwater down the drain-pipe, and I see that you are well-compensated with the best our modest home has to offer.”
“That includes the Old Winyards as well, doesn’t it, Frodo?” Pippin called out with hope, as their hosts left them to their own devices. A characteristic chuckle was the only reply.
&&&&&
“I don’t think we’ve that much to be a’tellin’, do you, Frodo?” Sam murmured, as they were tucked together in their customary positions much later that night. Merry and Pippin were packed away in the one guest room Crickhollow had to offer, and Fatty, as was his habit, had made himself quite comfortable on the hearth rug, with the assistance of two or four blankets. “I know they are that curious, sometimes, and someday we’ll have it all written out proper in that red book o’yours, but until then, I’d just as soon let it be, for now.”
“Can’t help but agree with you, Sam,” Frodo responded, giving Sam a long lingering kiss in the corner of his jaw, a location that never failed to make Sam whimper slightly and go quite weak in the knees. “Merry and Pippin seem to be wanting to go back,” he mentioned quietly, as a drowsy Sam started to nod off. “I’m not sure how they managed to talk Diamond and Estella into it, but apparently they have.”
Sam was instantly wide awake. “And you, m’dear?” he asked carefully.
“I rather think not,” was the soft reply, after several moments’ silence. “I think I am here where I belong. Here in the Shire, and more importantly, here in your arms, Sam, my love. There’s not much to entice me out any more, I’m afraid.”
Sam closed his eyes with a silent prayer of thanks, and found the base of Frodo’s throat, kissing it gently but lingeringly. “There and back again,” he murmured, and Frodo softly laughed as he turned in bed, and caught his beloved up in his arms.
waymeet "Take Five" challenge. I chose "Five baths at Crickhollow".Title: An Evening in the Country
Author: Elderberry Wine
Pairing: F/S (do I really need to tell you this? :D)
Rating: Mature (ditto here?)
Word count: 1149
Summary: Alpha version canon. What could have been. Not part of any series.
“Hoy, there, Pip, that very nearly put my pipe out!” exclaimed a startled Merry as a great spout of water and bubbles emerged from Peregrin Took’s tub.
“But you remember them, now, don’t you, Merry?” Pippin was not chastised in the least, as he appealed to his cousin for confirmation. “They were enormous, and came right out of the stream, you know. Sam, you saw them, didn’t you?”
“Sam was no doubt preoccupied with other matters,” Frodo hastily interposed, as Sam fixed the younger hobbit with a steely gaze. “But here, now, Pip, you’ve got the floor positively awash with suds.”
“Floor was muddy anyways,” Sam murmured, shrugging and relaxing back into the bubbles in his own tub. “All that rain out there today. Not a proper day t’go fishing, no how.”
“Now there’s a sensible lad,” calmly observed Fatty, with a lanky shin dangling over the side of his own copper tub. “Fishing’s pleasant enough on a nice day, but on the back end of autumn, it’s usually not that day.”
“But you know,” Pippin quickly observed, since after all, he had been the origin of the proposal in question, “it’s lovely afterwards, isn’t it, to sit in a proper tub full of hot water, not to mention this superb bath oil. It bubbles so very nicely. Wherever did you get it, Frodo?”
“Sam distilled it last summer,” Frodo dreamily replied, his elbows on the sides of his tub and his fingers dangling lazily in the water. “Lavender, you know.”
“I thought that was it,” Merry pronounced with satisfaction. “But what foresight to have five tubs on hand, Frodo. How did you know you’d have need of five tubs at once?”
Sam gave a slight snort at that comment, and ducked under the water.
Frodo laughed, and gave him a fond look. “Bought them for Bill, actually. For carrots and apples and whatnot. But he’s a generous pony and doesn’t mind sharing.”
“Fortunate that they come hobbit-size as well. Except for the pair of you. I must confess I find it preposterous to wrap my head around this wild tale of tipping back one with the trees as being the cause of it.” Fatty fixed a severe eye on Pippin, as being the one most likely to confess otherwise.
“There are many things, outside of the Shire, that you would have a hard time wrapping your head about, Fatty, and drinking with the trees is very likely the least of them,” Merry laughed, coming to Pippin’s assistance. “But the fact is, here we are, and it’s providential that some of these tubs come in particularly large sizes. You should have heard my mother go on about my wardrobe, when we got back. It all had to be redone, you know.”
Pippin grinned at that memory. “Mine as well. But that gave my sisters something to do. I must say, Pearl took her demotion from possible Thain rather well. Went on about not wanting to be in the public eye anyway, although I can’t really see what is so bad about that.”
“I can certainly appreciate her views on the matter,” Frodo murmured, rather quietly, but Sam shot him a concerned glance all the same.
“Well, I’ve given up asking the two of you about your adventures outside of the Shire,” Fatty cocked an eyebrow in Frodo’s direction. “When one comes back with bits missing, it couldn’t have been a pleasant excursion,” he continued mildly, forbearing to mention that the twisted white scar on Frodo’s shoulder told otherwise as well. “And Sam here has never quite gotten back that pleasing plumpness he had about him before all of you disappeared into the Old Forest. But my chief question, Frodo, is what possessed you to sell off Bag End and retire to this forsaken corner of the Shire? Not that Lobelia minds being Mistress of Bag End in the least, I assure you.”
“A new beginning, I suppose,” Frodo murmured somewhat self-consciously, feeling Merry and Pippin’s gaze on him as well. “Didn’t especially care to be Master of anything in particular.”
“They seem to still be after you to be Mayor at Michael Delving, you know,” Merry mentioned quietly, pulling his pipe out from his mouth and eying it critically.
“Actually, they’ve rather given up on me, and are going for Sam instead,” Frodo gave the once-again submerged hobbit a wry grin. “Don’t pretend you can’t hear us down there, Sam.”
“Well, now, look at the time,” Sam gave up all pretense of bathing and rose, with a slosh of suds, to his feet. “If the lot of you wish t’be havin’ any supper at all, I’d best get to work. And there’s some taters as need peelin’, me dear.”
Frodo grinned more broadly, and rose up as well. “Here, cousins, and I suppose that includes you too, as well, Fatty. See to this floor, and toss the bathwater down the drain-pipe, and I see that you are well-compensated with the best our modest home has to offer.”
“That includes the Old Winyards as well, doesn’t it, Frodo?” Pippin called out with hope, as their hosts left them to their own devices. A characteristic chuckle was the only reply.
&&&&&
“I don’t think we’ve that much to be a’tellin’, do you, Frodo?” Sam murmured, as they were tucked together in their customary positions much later that night. Merry and Pippin were packed away in the one guest room Crickhollow had to offer, and Fatty, as was his habit, had made himself quite comfortable on the hearth rug, with the assistance of two or four blankets. “I know they are that curious, sometimes, and someday we’ll have it all written out proper in that red book o’yours, but until then, I’d just as soon let it be, for now.”
“Can’t help but agree with you, Sam,” Frodo responded, giving Sam a long lingering kiss in the corner of his jaw, a location that never failed to make Sam whimper slightly and go quite weak in the knees. “Merry and Pippin seem to be wanting to go back,” he mentioned quietly, as a drowsy Sam started to nod off. “I’m not sure how they managed to talk Diamond and Estella into it, but apparently they have.”
Sam was instantly wide awake. “And you, m’dear?” he asked carefully.
“I rather think not,” was the soft reply, after several moments’ silence. “I think I am here where I belong. Here in the Shire, and more importantly, here in your arms, Sam, my love. There’s not much to entice me out any more, I’m afraid.”
Sam closed his eyes with a silent prayer of thanks, and found the base of Frodo’s throat, kissing it gently but lingeringly. “There and back again,” he murmured, and Frodo softly laughed as he turned in bed, and caught his beloved up in his arms.
no subject
I like to see them all cosy like that. I could feel the atmosphere.
It took me a few lines to understand exactly when this little scene was taking place.
I like even better to think that they are back again from their adventures.
Your Frodo and Sam are sobered but not destroyed. Good!
no subject
Thank you!
*squish*