Note: The first and last chapters take place at a different time than the
middle chapters, which will be numbered in elvish rather than having
chapter titles. I'm hoping this will prevent confusion. (By the way,
thank to those who've reviewed my stories. I like reviews!)
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Sam awoke with a start. He found himself leaning against a big oak tree on the side of the road, and for a moment, he forgot how he got there. But then it suddenly came all back to him in a rush.
"I only meant to sit and rest for a moment!" He gasped, leaping to his feet. "I've got to get myself back to Bag End and quick! I haven't watered Mr. Frodo's garden yet today, and I'll be more than half lucky if half the flowers aren't half-dead!" After pausing a moment at the wording of his statement, he looked up at the sky worriedly, noticing that the sun was much lower in the sky than when he'd last seen it. Hurrying down the hill, he began race down the road.
"I can't believe I let myself doze off." He muttered to himself. "I must have been more exhausted than I realized." He remembered the day before, and how he had not gotten home until late. Frodo, he had noticed, had been increasingly distressed lately. It was drawing near to the time when they would have to leave the Shire, but he didn't want to leave Bag End until his birthday in September, and the wizard Gandalf, who had promised Frodo that he would return before then, had still not returned. Trying to keep his mind off of his growing anxiety, Frodo had spent most of the day attempting to organize the mess of papers that cluttered up Bilbo's Study (he still liked to call it that, even though Bilbo had left). After Sam was done working in the yard, he had come in and helped his master with the daunting task. It was quite late when they had finally finished, and his Gaffer had a thing or two to say about the hour Sam had gotten home. To make matters worse, he had been woken at some unearthly hour of the morning (even for an early-riser such as he) by his little sister Marigold's pet kitten who thought Sam's foot would make a fun play toy.
Sam yawned tiredly as he finally reached the gate of Bag End. He had better hurry with the watering if he wanted to get a more decent amount of sleep than the night before.
He had only begun to fill up the watering can when his eyes started to droop. He shook his head in an attempt to wake himself up, and when he raised his head up once more, he saw her.
His eyes, unable to tear their gaze away, followed her as she walked past the gate, carrying a small basket filled with flowers. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her gait was as light as he imagined an elf's to be; smooth and graceful making her appear in Sam's eyes more fair than the fairest angel that could descend from the sky. Cascading down her back and on her shoulders were soft, brown curls of hair, which framed her beautiful face.
Sam strained his vision, trying to get a better glimpse of her through the growing darkness of night. If only he could get a closer view of her eyes, which even from the distance from which he was standing, shone from the reflected light of the rising moon, making Sam's heart beat so fast he thought it would burst.
But almost as soon as he saw her, she was gone, turning the corner around the hill, and Sam was torn from his daze. Trying to ignore his sudden inexplicable sadness that she was gone, he hastily completed his garden work, and headed home. He was already half-asleep when he crawled into bed, and fell asleep instantly.
In the morning, he dismissed the girl he had seen as a figment of a lovely dream.
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Sam awoke with a start. He found himself leaning against a big oak tree on the side of the road, and for a moment, he forgot how he got there. But then it suddenly came all back to him in a rush.
"I only meant to sit and rest for a moment!" He gasped, leaping to his feet. "I've got to get myself back to Bag End and quick! I haven't watered Mr. Frodo's garden yet today, and I'll be more than half lucky if half the flowers aren't half-dead!" After pausing a moment at the wording of his statement, he looked up at the sky worriedly, noticing that the sun was much lower in the sky than when he'd last seen it. Hurrying down the hill, he began race down the road.
"I can't believe I let myself doze off." He muttered to himself. "I must have been more exhausted than I realized." He remembered the day before, and how he had not gotten home until late. Frodo, he had noticed, had been increasingly distressed lately. It was drawing near to the time when they would have to leave the Shire, but he didn't want to leave Bag End until his birthday in September, and the wizard Gandalf, who had promised Frodo that he would return before then, had still not returned. Trying to keep his mind off of his growing anxiety, Frodo had spent most of the day attempting to organize the mess of papers that cluttered up Bilbo's Study (he still liked to call it that, even though Bilbo had left). After Sam was done working in the yard, he had come in and helped his master with the daunting task. It was quite late when they had finally finished, and his Gaffer had a thing or two to say about the hour Sam had gotten home. To make matters worse, he had been woken at some unearthly hour of the morning (even for an early-riser such as he) by his little sister Marigold's pet kitten who thought Sam's foot would make a fun play toy.
Sam yawned tiredly as he finally reached the gate of Bag End. He had better hurry with the watering if he wanted to get a more decent amount of sleep than the night before.
He had only begun to fill up the watering can when his eyes started to droop. He shook his head in an attempt to wake himself up, and when he raised his head up once more, he saw her.
His eyes, unable to tear their gaze away, followed her as she walked past the gate, carrying a small basket filled with flowers. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her gait was as light as he imagined an elf's to be; smooth and graceful making her appear in Sam's eyes more fair than the fairest angel that could descend from the sky. Cascading down her back and on her shoulders were soft, brown curls of hair, which framed her beautiful face.
Sam strained his vision, trying to get a better glimpse of her through the growing darkness of night. If only he could get a closer view of her eyes, which even from the distance from which he was standing, shone from the reflected light of the rising moon, making Sam's heart beat so fast he thought it would burst.
But almost as soon as he saw her, she was gone, turning the corner around the hill, and Sam was torn from his daze. Trying to ignore his sudden inexplicable sadness that she was gone, he hastily completed his garden work, and headed home. He was already half-asleep when he crawled into bed, and fell asleep instantly.
In the morning, he dismissed the girl he had seen as a figment of a lovely dream.