Shadowy Waters
A/n: Lady Lótessë would like to present a combination of severe Sam sweetness and sublime sylvan spells. As for inspiration, I was beyond irritated when I found that Peter Jackson had omitted Sam's vision in the Mirror of Galadriel, and had screwed around with Frodo's. That scene, with its distinctive take on destiny and divination, has always been a personal favorite of mine. This is based on the books, and may cause considerable confusion for those who have not yet read them. Here's a bit of my Sam's thoughts after he saw Elf-magic, bless him.
***
We have fallen in the dreams the Ever-living
Breathe on the burnished mirror of the world
And then smooth out with ivory hands and sigh,
And find their laughter sweeter to the taste
For that brief sighing.
-William Butler Yeats, The Shadowy Waters
***
Never, not in my deepest, most secret dreams did I ever think of anything as awful as what I saw today, those things as left a great empty ache where my hear rightly belongs. I should have listened to you, Dad, when you told me to steer clear of Elves and quests and magic. Some of the people I've met, people like the Lady and Lord Elrond and Glorfindel, they're so wonderful and beautiful, just as if they'd stepped straight out of one of my daydreams, that they've gone and put me off my guard. I always thought that Elves were perfect and good, but they're not. The Lady herself nearly fell to that Ring, and the Elf-magic I've seen has gone and scared me clean out of my skin. When the Lady Galadriel asked if I wanted to look in the Mirror, I thought that as it was magic, it must be good. And maybe it was, but it don't feel like that.
When I looked at the water I saw myself in awful dark places, cold and frightening, and I saw Mr. Frodo looking so pale and thin that it was like to break my heart. Something horrible had happened to us…I wonder if that part really was the future. It 'twas, I don't know what I'll do. Seems like knowin' what's going to happen ain't as good a thing as it's cracked up to be. And then I saw you, Dad. You seemed so old, Dad, like you'd been bent over by more sorrow than your poor dear heart could carry. The whole Shire was bein' ruined, and you along with it. Trees were topplin' over, and holes was being torn up. I saw hobbits being forced to work, Rosie Cotton being whipped by…some sort of Man, but he didn't seem properly human. They'd destroyed Bagshot Row. I knew what a blow that would be to you, losing our home like that. Oh Dad, I wanted to come home to you so badly, to wash that broken look off of your face, but I can't.
I can't come, because Frodo needs me. He's changed since we left Hobbiton, and not for the better. He's grown so thin that it seems I can see through him in the right light, and there are lines on his face as weren't there before. Ever since Gandalf…died…I'll catch him crying, off by himself where he don't think no one will notice. Then it's all I can do to not start weeping right along with him, but he needs me to be strong. I have to forget about the dreadful things that've happened to us and concentrate on taking care of him. Still, the worst times are when his beautiful eyes go so far away. I've always loved his big eyes; I have to keep that Shadow from putting their lovely light out. That wicked Ring is calling to him, never giving him any rest. I don't know how much longer he can hold out against it. If he were to be…changed by It, why I don't know as I'd be able to go on living. But as long as he's still the Frodo that I love I won't leave him. I can't leave him, because I know that he'd not stand a chance against the Darkness without me beside him. He needs love right now, and I've loved him ever since I was a toddler pulling dandelions in the gardens at Bag End in the sunshine. I'll try to keep those creeping shadows away from him, as long as I have breath in my body, as long as my love can hold them off.
So many people, so many things want to do him harm. Between Orcs, that Watcher-thing, and those Ringwraiths-I know I'll never forget them, never forget that dagger that they stabbed him with, never forget his screams of pain and fear- he's got every right to be frightened out of his skin. What's more, there's not much between him and a sword through his heart. He gets so wrapped up in that awful struggle in his mind that he don't notice other dangers. If he didn't have Mr. Bilbo's mail coat, I'd not sleep a wink for worry. That Man, Boromir, I wouldn't trust him with picking apples. He looks at Frodo more often than anyone else, and there's no love in his eyes. I don't know what I can do to protect my master against a strong warrior like him, but I'm keeping my eyes open anyhow. It's all that I can do.
When this is all over, Dad, when Mr. Frodo can sleep without dark things tearing at his heart and all the Dark beasts are gone, then I'll come home to you. I know now to always be careful, and that even the most beautiful people can hurt you right badly. At least I've seen their beauty, and heard their singing, just as I always wanted to. I know that there are greater things in this world than us hobbits, but I'll never be one of them. I don't belong here with these Elves and magicians; I belong in the Shire, with you and my garden, where I know my place and how to get done what needs to be taken care of. Soon now, I'll come home and try to make things right again. I'll make those as hurt you pay tenfold. I promise, Dad.
A/n: Lady Lótessë would like to present a combination of severe Sam sweetness and sublime sylvan spells. As for inspiration, I was beyond irritated when I found that Peter Jackson had omitted Sam's vision in the Mirror of Galadriel, and had screwed around with Frodo's. That scene, with its distinctive take on destiny and divination, has always been a personal favorite of mine. This is based on the books, and may cause considerable confusion for those who have not yet read them. Here's a bit of my Sam's thoughts after he saw Elf-magic, bless him.
***
We have fallen in the dreams the Ever-living
Breathe on the burnished mirror of the world
And then smooth out with ivory hands and sigh,
And find their laughter sweeter to the taste
For that brief sighing.
-William Butler Yeats, The Shadowy Waters
***
Never, not in my deepest, most secret dreams did I ever think of anything as awful as what I saw today, those things as left a great empty ache where my hear rightly belongs. I should have listened to you, Dad, when you told me to steer clear of Elves and quests and magic. Some of the people I've met, people like the Lady and Lord Elrond and Glorfindel, they're so wonderful and beautiful, just as if they'd stepped straight out of one of my daydreams, that they've gone and put me off my guard. I always thought that Elves were perfect and good, but they're not. The Lady herself nearly fell to that Ring, and the Elf-magic I've seen has gone and scared me clean out of my skin. When the Lady Galadriel asked if I wanted to look in the Mirror, I thought that as it was magic, it must be good. And maybe it was, but it don't feel like that.
When I looked at the water I saw myself in awful dark places, cold and frightening, and I saw Mr. Frodo looking so pale and thin that it was like to break my heart. Something horrible had happened to us…I wonder if that part really was the future. It 'twas, I don't know what I'll do. Seems like knowin' what's going to happen ain't as good a thing as it's cracked up to be. And then I saw you, Dad. You seemed so old, Dad, like you'd been bent over by more sorrow than your poor dear heart could carry. The whole Shire was bein' ruined, and you along with it. Trees were topplin' over, and holes was being torn up. I saw hobbits being forced to work, Rosie Cotton being whipped by…some sort of Man, but he didn't seem properly human. They'd destroyed Bagshot Row. I knew what a blow that would be to you, losing our home like that. Oh Dad, I wanted to come home to you so badly, to wash that broken look off of your face, but I can't.
I can't come, because Frodo needs me. He's changed since we left Hobbiton, and not for the better. He's grown so thin that it seems I can see through him in the right light, and there are lines on his face as weren't there before. Ever since Gandalf…died…I'll catch him crying, off by himself where he don't think no one will notice. Then it's all I can do to not start weeping right along with him, but he needs me to be strong. I have to forget about the dreadful things that've happened to us and concentrate on taking care of him. Still, the worst times are when his beautiful eyes go so far away. I've always loved his big eyes; I have to keep that Shadow from putting their lovely light out. That wicked Ring is calling to him, never giving him any rest. I don't know how much longer he can hold out against it. If he were to be…changed by It, why I don't know as I'd be able to go on living. But as long as he's still the Frodo that I love I won't leave him. I can't leave him, because I know that he'd not stand a chance against the Darkness without me beside him. He needs love right now, and I've loved him ever since I was a toddler pulling dandelions in the gardens at Bag End in the sunshine. I'll try to keep those creeping shadows away from him, as long as I have breath in my body, as long as my love can hold them off.
So many people, so many things want to do him harm. Between Orcs, that Watcher-thing, and those Ringwraiths-I know I'll never forget them, never forget that dagger that they stabbed him with, never forget his screams of pain and fear- he's got every right to be frightened out of his skin. What's more, there's not much between him and a sword through his heart. He gets so wrapped up in that awful struggle in his mind that he don't notice other dangers. If he didn't have Mr. Bilbo's mail coat, I'd not sleep a wink for worry. That Man, Boromir, I wouldn't trust him with picking apples. He looks at Frodo more often than anyone else, and there's no love in his eyes. I don't know what I can do to protect my master against a strong warrior like him, but I'm keeping my eyes open anyhow. It's all that I can do.
When this is all over, Dad, when Mr. Frodo can sleep without dark things tearing at his heart and all the Dark beasts are gone, then I'll come home to you. I know now to always be careful, and that even the most beautiful people can hurt you right badly. At least I've seen their beauty, and heard their singing, just as I always wanted to. I know that there are greater things in this world than us hobbits, but I'll never be one of them. I don't belong here with these Elves and magicians; I belong in the Shire, with you and my garden, where I know my place and how to get done what needs to be taken care of. Soon now, I'll come home and try to make things right again. I'll make those as hurt you pay tenfold. I promise, Dad.