Last of the Ring Bearers ~
Disclaimers: why do I even bother to write this? Only Tolkien owns LOTR. *durgh*
The old gaffer hoisted his pack onto his old, but faithful pony, Bill. He mounted Bill, and slowly
tread down the worn dirt path. Following close behind on a snowy mare, was his eldest daughter, Elanor.
They rode out of Bag End, then out of New Row, and soon, both were leaving behind the district of
Hobbiton. The gaffer was worn and elderly, averaging the age of ninety-six. He had had a gratifying life.
Thirteen marvelous children, a loving and beautiful wife, and a praiseworthy title; he was prepared to live
off the rest of his existence peacefully and quietly in the Grey Havens.
"Where are we going?" Elanor asked, though she could guess at the answer.
"We'll head straight for a quarter of a league, then turn south into the breakwater."
Tears welled up in Elanor's eyes. "So you're really planning to leave us then? You're really going
to leave? I-I thought it was just a-a…"
The gaffer turned to his daughter and cupped her face up towards him.
"You'll do fine without your old man. You have your husband, and your lovely little babes. But more
importantly you have a heart of gold, now don't you ever forget that. You're a great deal like a hobbit I
once knew…. Heh… Me and your mother were set on naming you after him."
They talked no more after that, but rode easily along the road. Soon after nightfall, they reached
their destination. The stars were winking in the dark night sky. The night air tasted hot, sweet and moist.
The sea blew a cool breeze on the two hobbits' travel-worn faces. Out on the harbor, a long-masted ship
was waiting for the gaffer. With the assistance of boatmen, his things were carried to his room. The gaffer
came back down for one last hug from his daughter. "Here, I got something for you," he said, fumbling
with the strap of his leather pack,
" You can give it to your children, and your then children's children." He produced from his
bundle the Red Book, and handed it to her.
Quietly, Elanor spoke again. "We'll all miss you, you know that, don't you?"
Sam nodded his head. "Don't ever forget your old pap, and watch Bill for me, will you? He prefers
carrots. Aw, sheesh, I know missing something… Lo! I almost forgot." He pulled out another item,
wrapped up in a handkerchief; this one only the size of a fist. Unwrapping it with utmost care, he pulled out
a gray wooden box with a flourished, silver 'G ' incrusted upon its surface. He gingerly opened it, and
inside was a single golden bloom; the fair elanor, likewise to his daughter's name.
"I picked it in the Lorien Woods," said he, "Don't know if was s'pose to, but I did. It's yours now,
I won't ever be needing it again."
He then smiled in a tired but blissful way, and with one last embrace, Sam Gamgee boarded the vessel, and
left for beyond the Western Seas.
More to come
Disclaimers: why do I even bother to write this? Only Tolkien owns LOTR. *durgh*
The old gaffer hoisted his pack onto his old, but faithful pony, Bill. He mounted Bill, and slowly
tread down the worn dirt path. Following close behind on a snowy mare, was his eldest daughter, Elanor.
They rode out of Bag End, then out of New Row, and soon, both were leaving behind the district of
Hobbiton. The gaffer was worn and elderly, averaging the age of ninety-six. He had had a gratifying life.
Thirteen marvelous children, a loving and beautiful wife, and a praiseworthy title; he was prepared to live
off the rest of his existence peacefully and quietly in the Grey Havens.
"Where are we going?" Elanor asked, though she could guess at the answer.
"We'll head straight for a quarter of a league, then turn south into the breakwater."
Tears welled up in Elanor's eyes. "So you're really planning to leave us then? You're really going
to leave? I-I thought it was just a-a…"
The gaffer turned to his daughter and cupped her face up towards him.
"You'll do fine without your old man. You have your husband, and your lovely little babes. But more
importantly you have a heart of gold, now don't you ever forget that. You're a great deal like a hobbit I
once knew…. Heh… Me and your mother were set on naming you after him."
They talked no more after that, but rode easily along the road. Soon after nightfall, they reached
their destination. The stars were winking in the dark night sky. The night air tasted hot, sweet and moist.
The sea blew a cool breeze on the two hobbits' travel-worn faces. Out on the harbor, a long-masted ship
was waiting for the gaffer. With the assistance of boatmen, his things were carried to his room. The gaffer
came back down for one last hug from his daughter. "Here, I got something for you," he said, fumbling
with the strap of his leather pack,
" You can give it to your children, and your then children's children." He produced from his
bundle the Red Book, and handed it to her.
Quietly, Elanor spoke again. "We'll all miss you, you know that, don't you?"
Sam nodded his head. "Don't ever forget your old pap, and watch Bill for me, will you? He prefers
carrots. Aw, sheesh, I know missing something… Lo! I almost forgot." He pulled out another item,
wrapped up in a handkerchief; this one only the size of a fist. Unwrapping it with utmost care, he pulled out
a gray wooden box with a flourished, silver 'G ' incrusted upon its surface. He gingerly opened it, and
inside was a single golden bloom; the fair elanor, likewise to his daughter's name.
"I picked it in the Lorien Woods," said he, "Don't know if was s'pose to, but I did. It's yours now,
I won't ever be needing it again."
He then smiled in a tired but blissful way, and with one last embrace, Sam Gamgee boarded the vessel, and
left for beyond the Western Seas.
More to come