1.1 AUTHOR'S NOTE: PLEASE FORGIVE THE LONG INTERLUDE BETWEEN CHAPTERS. My
non-virtual life has been interfering with my writing. THANK YOU FOR YOUR
UNDERSTANING AND PATIENCE! Please leave me a review, however short, so that
I know you are still out there and want more!
1.2
1.3 Sam's Tale
Reviews coveted and appreciated!
"I asks, yes. And if that isn't nice enough, I begs!"
Author: Nilramiel@aol.com, aka RosieCotton
Rating: G, PG, R
Genre: General/Romance
Setting: The Shire, June 1420
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1.4 Chapter 24: Song
Rating: G
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Rosie took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder. All was quiet. Mr. Frodo was down at the mayor's offices, having left just after elevensies and in good spirits. Sam was whistling in the back garden, tending the vegetables, which like all growing things were unusually large and productive this year.
Rosie knelt by the ornate trunk, stealing one more glance over her shoulder at Frodo's bedroom door, although she knew it was closed. She unlatched the lid and lifted it, looking in at the beautiful things neatly arranged within. The one that caught the eye was, of course, the mithril coat, folded reverently to one side of the trunk. Next to it were the two wooden boxes. Rosie lifted out the larger one.
Her heart was pounding. She scolded herself, "Rose Gamgee, you just calm down, now." Why did she feel like a naughty child, stealing apples from the larder? Mr. Frodo had told her, on at least three separate occasions, that she was welcome to hold the stone, whenever she wished. When offered the opportunity in front of others, she had always declined, and each time, Frodo had said, "Well, Rosie, if you change your mind, you can always feel free to try it. Anytime, Rosie," and he had smiled at her.
Rosie sat the smooth wooden box on the floor next to the chest. Taking another deep breath to steady herself, she opened the box. The Ondo Seere lay within, a soft whitish-green, cradled in a rich dark cloth.
"I wonder what you would feel, Rose?" Sam had said to her, just a few evenings ago, teasing just a little. Rosie had shrugged, and kissed his forehead. She could not explain to Sam her reluctance – her need to do this in private, at least the first time.
Rosie had never experienced magic. She had seen it certainly, in Gandalf's fireworks, in the amazing growth caused by the Lady's dust, and in the mallorn. She had touched the mallorn and felt it thrumming deep within, and that was elvish magic, she knew, but this stone, this was different. The stone's magic was more personal – it got under your skin and into your mind and heart – she had seen it bring forth ringing laughter, profound weeping, and many things in between (although the stone's touch always seemed to have a healing effect). Rosie was a farming lass. She was of vegetables and grain, of soil and water, of sheep and pigs and baby chicks. As grounded in reality as a lass could be was Rosie Cotton Gamgee.
The Ondo Seere, quite frankly, frightened her.
It must be clarified that Rosie was not a timid girl. She had faced down a full-grown bull once, when she was still in her tweens. Spiders didn't frighten her, nor did vermin, and once she had broken her arm falling from a tree. She was trying to imitate her two oldest brothers, who had tied a long thick rope from a high branch. They would climb up into the tree, grasp the rope with all four limbs, and swing out into space, squealing with fright and joy. Rosie, who had only nine summers at the time and was small for her age, was determined to try it herself despite her brothers' and her parents' warnings. She had climbed up one early fall morning to try it, when everyone else in the family was at their chores. It was actually on her third climb up the tree that she fell, having swung twice already. And Rosie had only cried a little bit, although it had hurt worse than anything she could remember, especially when the healer pulled the limb straight and bound it tightly to heal.
No, Rosie was not easily frightened, but this small white thing scared her more than ruffians. The idea of magic, of elvish magic against her own skin, made her tremble.
Quickly, lest she lose her nerve, Rosie reached into the box and picked up the stone. She pressed it between both hands against her breast, breathing hard.
At first, nothing happened. Then slowly, the stone grew warm between her tight-clenched fingers. It vibrated against her palms, much as the mallorn did, but this was stronger. The sensation was very much like having a tiny kitten in her hands, purring and warm against her flesh.
The warmth spread, through Rosie's hands, up her arms, and over her shoulders. At the same time it penetrated her chest, flowing across her ribcage like warm water. Rosie felt herself relaxing, and wondered why she had been afraid. It was not frightening at all, this elvish magic. It was beautiful.
Rosie smiled.
For several moments she sat thus, lost in the feeling of peace, then gradually became aware that she could hear music. Softly at first, then higher and clearer, like singing but without words. It took Rosie several heartbeats to recognize that the music was emitting from the Ondo Seere, and was not inside her own head and heart. The song washed over her, like morning sunshine on a flowerbed, and Rosie kept very still, eyes closed, awash in gladness.
At last she pulled the stone from her breast, holding it in her open hands for a moment. The song faded, as if the stone knew she was about to put it down, and it was silent when she placed it gently back into the wooden box, although its warmth still lingered against her fingertips.
Rose replaced the lid, and lifted the wooden box back into the trunk, fastening the latches carefully. She rose slowly, feeling lighter somehow. The stone had sung to her! She couldn't wait to tell Sam.
~TBC~
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Please do not copy or post this story to another website, or use it for your own purposes, without my permission and/or without these additional comments. Feel free to link away!
Acknowledgements: The characters, setting, and much of the dialog belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and I give full credit to him. This story focuses on the relationship of Samwise Gamgee and Rose Cotton, and it is how I imagine the events following the Hobbits' return to the Shire following the War of the Ring and King Aragorn's coronation and marriage. If you have read the book, The Return of the King, you will find the events familiar. I have tried to "fill in the gaps," regarding Sam's courtship to Rose Cotton. Sam is my favorite character in Tolkien's work, and this is written with the deepest respect for both Tolkien and the noble Samwise.
1.2
1.3 Sam's Tale
Reviews coveted and appreciated!
"I asks, yes. And if that isn't nice enough, I begs!"
Author: Nilramiel@aol.com, aka RosieCotton
Rating: G, PG, R
Genre: General/Romance
Setting: The Shire, June 1420
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
1.4 Chapter 24: Song
Rating: G
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Rosie took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder. All was quiet. Mr. Frodo was down at the mayor's offices, having left just after elevensies and in good spirits. Sam was whistling in the back garden, tending the vegetables, which like all growing things were unusually large and productive this year.
Rosie knelt by the ornate trunk, stealing one more glance over her shoulder at Frodo's bedroom door, although she knew it was closed. She unlatched the lid and lifted it, looking in at the beautiful things neatly arranged within. The one that caught the eye was, of course, the mithril coat, folded reverently to one side of the trunk. Next to it were the two wooden boxes. Rosie lifted out the larger one.
Her heart was pounding. She scolded herself, "Rose Gamgee, you just calm down, now." Why did she feel like a naughty child, stealing apples from the larder? Mr. Frodo had told her, on at least three separate occasions, that she was welcome to hold the stone, whenever she wished. When offered the opportunity in front of others, she had always declined, and each time, Frodo had said, "Well, Rosie, if you change your mind, you can always feel free to try it. Anytime, Rosie," and he had smiled at her.
Rosie sat the smooth wooden box on the floor next to the chest. Taking another deep breath to steady herself, she opened the box. The Ondo Seere lay within, a soft whitish-green, cradled in a rich dark cloth.
"I wonder what you would feel, Rose?" Sam had said to her, just a few evenings ago, teasing just a little. Rosie had shrugged, and kissed his forehead. She could not explain to Sam her reluctance – her need to do this in private, at least the first time.
Rosie had never experienced magic. She had seen it certainly, in Gandalf's fireworks, in the amazing growth caused by the Lady's dust, and in the mallorn. She had touched the mallorn and felt it thrumming deep within, and that was elvish magic, she knew, but this stone, this was different. The stone's magic was more personal – it got under your skin and into your mind and heart – she had seen it bring forth ringing laughter, profound weeping, and many things in between (although the stone's touch always seemed to have a healing effect). Rosie was a farming lass. She was of vegetables and grain, of soil and water, of sheep and pigs and baby chicks. As grounded in reality as a lass could be was Rosie Cotton Gamgee.
The Ondo Seere, quite frankly, frightened her.
It must be clarified that Rosie was not a timid girl. She had faced down a full-grown bull once, when she was still in her tweens. Spiders didn't frighten her, nor did vermin, and once she had broken her arm falling from a tree. She was trying to imitate her two oldest brothers, who had tied a long thick rope from a high branch. They would climb up into the tree, grasp the rope with all four limbs, and swing out into space, squealing with fright and joy. Rosie, who had only nine summers at the time and was small for her age, was determined to try it herself despite her brothers' and her parents' warnings. She had climbed up one early fall morning to try it, when everyone else in the family was at their chores. It was actually on her third climb up the tree that she fell, having swung twice already. And Rosie had only cried a little bit, although it had hurt worse than anything she could remember, especially when the healer pulled the limb straight and bound it tightly to heal.
No, Rosie was not easily frightened, but this small white thing scared her more than ruffians. The idea of magic, of elvish magic against her own skin, made her tremble.
Quickly, lest she lose her nerve, Rosie reached into the box and picked up the stone. She pressed it between both hands against her breast, breathing hard.
At first, nothing happened. Then slowly, the stone grew warm between her tight-clenched fingers. It vibrated against her palms, much as the mallorn did, but this was stronger. The sensation was very much like having a tiny kitten in her hands, purring and warm against her flesh.
The warmth spread, through Rosie's hands, up her arms, and over her shoulders. At the same time it penetrated her chest, flowing across her ribcage like warm water. Rosie felt herself relaxing, and wondered why she had been afraid. It was not frightening at all, this elvish magic. It was beautiful.
Rosie smiled.
For several moments she sat thus, lost in the feeling of peace, then gradually became aware that she could hear music. Softly at first, then higher and clearer, like singing but without words. It took Rosie several heartbeats to recognize that the music was emitting from the Ondo Seere, and was not inside her own head and heart. The song washed over her, like morning sunshine on a flowerbed, and Rosie kept very still, eyes closed, awash in gladness.
At last she pulled the stone from her breast, holding it in her open hands for a moment. The song faded, as if the stone knew she was about to put it down, and it was silent when she placed it gently back into the wooden box, although its warmth still lingered against her fingertips.
Rose replaced the lid, and lifted the wooden box back into the trunk, fastening the latches carefully. She rose slowly, feeling lighter somehow. The stone had sung to her! She couldn't wait to tell Sam.
~TBC~
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Please do not copy or post this story to another website, or use it for your own purposes, without my permission and/or without these additional comments. Feel free to link away!
Acknowledgements: The characters, setting, and much of the dialog belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and I give full credit to him. This story focuses on the relationship of Samwise Gamgee and Rose Cotton, and it is how I imagine the events following the Hobbits' return to the Shire following the War of the Ring and King Aragorn's coronation and marriage. If you have read the book, The Return of the King, you will find the events familiar. I have tried to "fill in the gaps," regarding Sam's courtship to Rose Cotton. Sam is my favorite character in Tolkien's work, and this is written with the deepest respect for both Tolkien and the noble Samwise.
