Dinner Time
The door opened almost immediately and Sam found himself facing one of Rosie's younger brothers, Nibs. He had a grin on his face and was holding a toy block in one hand, and promptly announced, "I can answer the door, I'm a big kid now!" Then ran back inside the house, squealing with delight. Sam peered in awkwardly, then Rosie's two other younger brothers came running out the door, yelling, "I am the boss! You can't tell me what to do!" then tackling each other and wrestling on the grass.
Rosie finally came to the door, looking slightly frustrated, but she sounded very pleased and happy to see Sam. She was wearing a dress with many shades of blue on and her hair was held up by a dark blue ribbon. Her eyes sparkled all the same and her familiar smile was on her face. Sam couldn't help but notice how pretty she was, she was always gorgeous but this night every feature of her face stood out. Sam felt his stomach churn and felt as if he should have come more prepared.
"Sam!" she smiled wider at seeing him, "Come in, come in! Dinner's all on the table and ready!"
She motioned Sam in and he walked inside timidly. The house was much smaller then Bag End, a little squashed in but still warm and inviting. It had the look and feel as if you could just lay back and relax without a care. There was a little table with a vase full of flowers and several painted pictures of the family and Mr. and Mrs. Cotton. The smell of a well- prepared dinner wafted through the hallways, and Sam realized exactly how hungry he really was.
Upon seeing the flowers, Sam remembered the bundle he had in his hands.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, then said, "Rose, I got you some flowers here!" he lamely held them up and said, "I know it's not a lot and really."
But Rosie's face lit up in delight and she took the flowers graciously, saying, "Oh, Sam! They are so beautiful and lovely! It's a wonderful arrangement!" She lowered her head slightly and smelled their fragrance while Sam breathed a sigh of relief. The flowers had worked, now he hoped he could manage the rest of the evening without messing up.
They continued down the hallway, Rosie guiding Sam to the dining room, "It's going to be a large family dinner, including you, of course. "
If it was possible, Sam began to feel more nervous than before, nausea creeping up into his chest and his stomach showing no sign of resisting the fluttering butterflies. The warmth and light of candles seemed to soothe Sam a bit, but he could still not stop his nervousness. 'Relax now, Sam, it's not that big of a deal. Not that big of a deal, not very big and it'll be over before you know it.'
The dining room was a fairly large room, but with all of the family members crowded in it was a little cramped. There was a long table of dark cherry wood, polished with a white table cloth covering the top. Many plates and serving bowls littered the table containing pies, potatoes, corn, carrots, chicken, and more things that Sam couldn't count. Mr. Cotton was sitting at the head of the table, dishing himself up some food while talking to Mrs. Cotton, who was trying to fit the squirming baby Marabelle into her highchair. Nibs, Jolly, and Nick raced into the room and practically dived into their chairs, chanting, "Dinner! Supper! Food! Food! Food!" and immediately attacked the table, dishing up large quantities of food. Rosie motioned Sam to sit down in the seat next to Mr. Cotton's while she sat down next to Sam's seat Sam sat, trying hard to remember everything Frodo, Merry, and Pippin had told him. However, he wasn't sure if half of the things they had told him were serious.
"Samwise, my boy, so glad of you to join us!" Mr. Cotton roared, clapping Sam heartily on the back. Mr. Cotton was a loud hobbit, always found at the bar or the lobby of The Ivy Bush or The Green Dragon often with a mug of ale in one had and a pair of dice in the other. He livened each room he was in with his "daring" stories and "adventures". He was a strong hobbit and when angry could make even a full grown man cower. But that was rare, as he was usually in a merry mood and would never remain mad for long.
"Thank you for having me, Mr. Cotton." Sam said respectfully and Mr. Cotton laughed loudly, very loudly.
"Don't thank me, Sam, boy! It was all Rosie's idea!" Mr. Cotton said, gesturing to Rosie. Sam, to his astonishment, thought he saw red rising in her cheeks. Rosie had always acted so kind and pleasant, never nervous or embarrassed. But here he saw her busying herself by rearranging some dishes. Mr. Cotton began again, "Yes, she ran into the house yesterday and immediately said, 'Tomorrow night we shall have Samwise Gamgee over for dinner'. And what a great idea!" Mr. Cotton laughed again. Sam tried not to show the pain of the loud noise blasting into his ear, but smiled nervously.
"Mind yourself, Tolman." Mrs. Cotton said, finally wrestling Marabelle into her chair. "Not so loudly."
"Always, my dear!" He exclaimed again, louder than before.
"Don't just sit there, Samwise!" she smiled at him and sat down herself. "Help yourself to some dinner!" Mrs. Cotton was a pleasant person to be around since she always had a warm smile on her face. She always had some sort of treat baking in her oven, which made her immediately popular among the children. When stern, she could be quite threatening (Sam remembered his beating very clearly) but was almost always smiling. She was fair when young, but upon reaching an old age her beautiful face was lined with wrinkles and lines.
"So, Sam, how are things up in Bag End? How's little Frodo doing?" Mr. Cotton said, sticking a large spoonful of stew into his mouth. Mr. Cotton could also eat, a lot, even for a hobbit.
Sam replied, trying to sound normal and not as terrified as he really was. The welcoming atmosphere of the room relaxed him a bit, but Rosie sitting right next to him (rather close too, on purpose or not!) didn't ease a lot of his tension. "Oh, he's doing well. Though I think at times he's a little bored, but he reads lots of books and he even helps me in the garden at times."
Mr. Cotton laughed again, "Ah, Frodo gardening! That's a sight to see, I always pictured the lad reading or writing or doing some scholarly smart thing." He chuckled then helped himself to some steamed carrots.
Sam dished himself up some of everything and started on it, Mrs. Cotton saying, "Rosie cooked almost all of it, though I added in the roast potatoes and stew if I say so myself." She drew herself up in fake pride, Mrs. Cotton was always humble and kept her head at the right level.
Sam tasted some of the roast chicken Rosie had prepared, and to no surprise he found it very delicious. Better than anything he had ever tasted, except for maybe her strawberry cake. Sam always knew that Rosie was an excellent cook, everyone did. People would often ask her to make little cakes or pastries to serve at their various parties.
"It's wonderful!" he said, speaking truthfully, and he saw Rosie show a little blush, yet she smiled at him thankfully.
"That's mine, Jol!" Nick said, grabbing Jolly's fork which had one of Nick's carrots on it.
"No, mine!" Jolly retorted.
"Is not!" Nick screamed.
"Nick! Jolly!" Mrs. Cotton said sternly, "Behave yourself, we have a guest!"
Nibs, being accident prone as young as he was, knocked over her cup of milk and began to cry. "Not my fault, not my fault!"
Mrs. Cotton sighed and said, "Oh, Nibs." and went to go mop it up and comfort him.
Rosie leaned over to Sam and said softly, "I'm sorry this is rather wild." She looked at him with a sorry look, "But this is how things are around over here."
Sam shook his head and said, "Oh, no! I don't mind at all, I'm a bit used to it!" Sam had five brothers and sisters, though two oldest moved away, he had grown used to the noisiness of the family reunions they often had.
"Sam, here, pass me those rolls over there, do you mind?" Mr. Cotton asked.
Sam and Rosie both reached to the bowl, and their hands brushed (as always in every romance fic!).
"Oh, sorry." Sam blushed and withdrew his hands quickly.
"My fault." Rosie said at the same time, about as red as Sam.
Mr. Cotton chuckled under his breath and reached himself, saying, "Not a problem at all, I can do it!"
Sam, finding that he needed to say something to escape the embarrassment, "So, where's Tom?" Rosie's older brother, named after his father, had married Sam's younger sister Marigold. Sam still remembered the long talk that his father had put Tom through.
Mrs. Cotton sighed and said, "Still off in Bree. Wonder why on earth he even went away to that place, much safer here! No tall men to beat up my poor Tom and dearest Marigold." She shook her head.
"Tom never coming back!" Nibs wailed, pounding his pudgy hands on the table.
"'Course he's gonna come back!" Nick said, "Don't be stupid, Nibs!"
Mr. Cotton boomed, "Nick, Nib's just a lad! No use beating up on him!"
The evening continued on (and as loudly as before too) with several more spilt mugs and some little feuds between the three younger brothers. Rosie and Mrs. Cotton cleared away the table (Sam would've helped, but they insisted he didn't) and Nick and Jolly, excited about having a guest, had questioned Sam from everything from what his favorite food was to if he was going to marry Rosie.
"Oh." Sam flustered after being approached with the question, he waited till Rosie was out of the room, then whispered to them, "I don't know.I wouldn't mind."
Nick and Jolly laughed and giggled, then began to ask him other questions. Sam was relieved to get away from the subject of marrying Rosie. Marry Rosie? The idea made his spine tingle and goose bumps travel up his arms. He had a crush, that was all, and now that he was in the house of Rosie over to dinner made his butterflies swarm in his stomach. Sam's thoughts were thankfully broken by the booming voice of Mr. Cotton.
Sam stood outside the Cotton's hole, the evening had dragged on and also swept by quickly. The rest of the evening had been spent talking with the Cotton family, from everything from his family to the different type of flowers in his garden. But the night had grown and the evening vanished, so he was about to head home.
"Come back to play again, Sam!" Nibs said while Marabelle gurgled in her mother's arms.
"I'll try, Nibs." Sam said, he had grown fond of the small child, always crying over something he had done wrong and yet happy with an unknown cheerfulness.
"Rosie, invite him over again!" Nibs said happily, then ran back into the house to join his brothers in their games.
"Don't stay up too late, hey!" Mrs. Cotton called in after them, then sighed. She faced Sam with her smile and said, "Thank you for coming over, it was a pleasure!"
Sam, now feeling a little more confident in himself and closer to the Cotton family, said, "Thank you for having me, I've had the best of times this night!"
Mr. Cotton laughed a laugh that would've knocked down the tallest mountain. "You're just saying that to be nice, Sam!"
"I never lie." Sam replied.
Mr. Cotton glanced at Rosie then said, "Well, I best be off, farewell, Sam! Drop by any time you wish!" While he passed his wife on his way into the house he gave her a wink that no one could see but her.
"I must go as well, come by any day, you hear?" she said, bouncing the giggling Marabelle in her arms, "And if you harm my fence in any way, you better believe I won't hesitate to give the proper punishment!" she gave him a smile then disappeared inside the house, shutting the door behind her.
Sam and Rosie were now completely alone, and Sam immediately felt the wave of uneasy worry flow over him like rapids.
"Thanks for coming, Sam." She said, smiling. They hardly had time to talk to each other during the evening, since the brothers had prevented them from doing so.
"As I said before, it was wonderful. I could never ask for more, Rose." He replied, surprising himself at the sureness in his voice.
"I had a wonderful time too, but there's one thing." she looked at him and said, "never call me Rose. I am Rosie and you will call me that from now on."
She moved closer to him, "Next time I promise it will be just us." She lifted her head up higher and placed a simple kiss on his cheek. Sam felt his face go hot and he could bet on the One Ring that his face was probably as red as brick. Rosie smiled and then turned around, opening the door and closing it behind her.
Sam stood there for a moment, stunned. He had received a kiss from Rosie Cotton, only on the cheek, but it was something almost every hobbit his age dreamed of. And it was true for him. He touched his cheek with his rough fingers, still dazed by what had happened. Finding himself still standing in their front lawn, he turned around and started back to Bag End.
Was it true? Could Rosie actually be in love with him? Sam couldn't believe it, there were plenty other more smart or good looking hobbits out there, why him? A simple gardener with not a lot of money. Sam shook his head in confusion. Why him?
Then he came up with an answer, not the best of answers, but an answer. 'It doesn't really matter.' It was more of a Pippin sort of thought. He didn't care what it was about him that made ladies hang off his neck, he just enjoyed it. Sam laughed to himself, a smile spreading across his lips. 'Aren't I the lucky one?' he thought, then jumped in the air, laughing and running all the way back home.
The door opened almost immediately and Sam found himself facing one of Rosie's younger brothers, Nibs. He had a grin on his face and was holding a toy block in one hand, and promptly announced, "I can answer the door, I'm a big kid now!" Then ran back inside the house, squealing with delight. Sam peered in awkwardly, then Rosie's two other younger brothers came running out the door, yelling, "I am the boss! You can't tell me what to do!" then tackling each other and wrestling on the grass.
Rosie finally came to the door, looking slightly frustrated, but she sounded very pleased and happy to see Sam. She was wearing a dress with many shades of blue on and her hair was held up by a dark blue ribbon. Her eyes sparkled all the same and her familiar smile was on her face. Sam couldn't help but notice how pretty she was, she was always gorgeous but this night every feature of her face stood out. Sam felt his stomach churn and felt as if he should have come more prepared.
"Sam!" she smiled wider at seeing him, "Come in, come in! Dinner's all on the table and ready!"
She motioned Sam in and he walked inside timidly. The house was much smaller then Bag End, a little squashed in but still warm and inviting. It had the look and feel as if you could just lay back and relax without a care. There was a little table with a vase full of flowers and several painted pictures of the family and Mr. and Mrs. Cotton. The smell of a well- prepared dinner wafted through the hallways, and Sam realized exactly how hungry he really was.
Upon seeing the flowers, Sam remembered the bundle he had in his hands.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, then said, "Rose, I got you some flowers here!" he lamely held them up and said, "I know it's not a lot and really."
But Rosie's face lit up in delight and she took the flowers graciously, saying, "Oh, Sam! They are so beautiful and lovely! It's a wonderful arrangement!" She lowered her head slightly and smelled their fragrance while Sam breathed a sigh of relief. The flowers had worked, now he hoped he could manage the rest of the evening without messing up.
They continued down the hallway, Rosie guiding Sam to the dining room, "It's going to be a large family dinner, including you, of course. "
If it was possible, Sam began to feel more nervous than before, nausea creeping up into his chest and his stomach showing no sign of resisting the fluttering butterflies. The warmth and light of candles seemed to soothe Sam a bit, but he could still not stop his nervousness. 'Relax now, Sam, it's not that big of a deal. Not that big of a deal, not very big and it'll be over before you know it.'
The dining room was a fairly large room, but with all of the family members crowded in it was a little cramped. There was a long table of dark cherry wood, polished with a white table cloth covering the top. Many plates and serving bowls littered the table containing pies, potatoes, corn, carrots, chicken, and more things that Sam couldn't count. Mr. Cotton was sitting at the head of the table, dishing himself up some food while talking to Mrs. Cotton, who was trying to fit the squirming baby Marabelle into her highchair. Nibs, Jolly, and Nick raced into the room and practically dived into their chairs, chanting, "Dinner! Supper! Food! Food! Food!" and immediately attacked the table, dishing up large quantities of food. Rosie motioned Sam to sit down in the seat next to Mr. Cotton's while she sat down next to Sam's seat Sam sat, trying hard to remember everything Frodo, Merry, and Pippin had told him. However, he wasn't sure if half of the things they had told him were serious.
"Samwise, my boy, so glad of you to join us!" Mr. Cotton roared, clapping Sam heartily on the back. Mr. Cotton was a loud hobbit, always found at the bar or the lobby of The Ivy Bush or The Green Dragon often with a mug of ale in one had and a pair of dice in the other. He livened each room he was in with his "daring" stories and "adventures". He was a strong hobbit and when angry could make even a full grown man cower. But that was rare, as he was usually in a merry mood and would never remain mad for long.
"Thank you for having me, Mr. Cotton." Sam said respectfully and Mr. Cotton laughed loudly, very loudly.
"Don't thank me, Sam, boy! It was all Rosie's idea!" Mr. Cotton said, gesturing to Rosie. Sam, to his astonishment, thought he saw red rising in her cheeks. Rosie had always acted so kind and pleasant, never nervous or embarrassed. But here he saw her busying herself by rearranging some dishes. Mr. Cotton began again, "Yes, she ran into the house yesterday and immediately said, 'Tomorrow night we shall have Samwise Gamgee over for dinner'. And what a great idea!" Mr. Cotton laughed again. Sam tried not to show the pain of the loud noise blasting into his ear, but smiled nervously.
"Mind yourself, Tolman." Mrs. Cotton said, finally wrestling Marabelle into her chair. "Not so loudly."
"Always, my dear!" He exclaimed again, louder than before.
"Don't just sit there, Samwise!" she smiled at him and sat down herself. "Help yourself to some dinner!" Mrs. Cotton was a pleasant person to be around since she always had a warm smile on her face. She always had some sort of treat baking in her oven, which made her immediately popular among the children. When stern, she could be quite threatening (Sam remembered his beating very clearly) but was almost always smiling. She was fair when young, but upon reaching an old age her beautiful face was lined with wrinkles and lines.
"So, Sam, how are things up in Bag End? How's little Frodo doing?" Mr. Cotton said, sticking a large spoonful of stew into his mouth. Mr. Cotton could also eat, a lot, even for a hobbit.
Sam replied, trying to sound normal and not as terrified as he really was. The welcoming atmosphere of the room relaxed him a bit, but Rosie sitting right next to him (rather close too, on purpose or not!) didn't ease a lot of his tension. "Oh, he's doing well. Though I think at times he's a little bored, but he reads lots of books and he even helps me in the garden at times."
Mr. Cotton laughed again, "Ah, Frodo gardening! That's a sight to see, I always pictured the lad reading or writing or doing some scholarly smart thing." He chuckled then helped himself to some steamed carrots.
Sam dished himself up some of everything and started on it, Mrs. Cotton saying, "Rosie cooked almost all of it, though I added in the roast potatoes and stew if I say so myself." She drew herself up in fake pride, Mrs. Cotton was always humble and kept her head at the right level.
Sam tasted some of the roast chicken Rosie had prepared, and to no surprise he found it very delicious. Better than anything he had ever tasted, except for maybe her strawberry cake. Sam always knew that Rosie was an excellent cook, everyone did. People would often ask her to make little cakes or pastries to serve at their various parties.
"It's wonderful!" he said, speaking truthfully, and he saw Rosie show a little blush, yet she smiled at him thankfully.
"That's mine, Jol!" Nick said, grabbing Jolly's fork which had one of Nick's carrots on it.
"No, mine!" Jolly retorted.
"Is not!" Nick screamed.
"Nick! Jolly!" Mrs. Cotton said sternly, "Behave yourself, we have a guest!"
Nibs, being accident prone as young as he was, knocked over her cup of milk and began to cry. "Not my fault, not my fault!"
Mrs. Cotton sighed and said, "Oh, Nibs." and went to go mop it up and comfort him.
Rosie leaned over to Sam and said softly, "I'm sorry this is rather wild." She looked at him with a sorry look, "But this is how things are around over here."
Sam shook his head and said, "Oh, no! I don't mind at all, I'm a bit used to it!" Sam had five brothers and sisters, though two oldest moved away, he had grown used to the noisiness of the family reunions they often had.
"Sam, here, pass me those rolls over there, do you mind?" Mr. Cotton asked.
Sam and Rosie both reached to the bowl, and their hands brushed (as always in every romance fic!).
"Oh, sorry." Sam blushed and withdrew his hands quickly.
"My fault." Rosie said at the same time, about as red as Sam.
Mr. Cotton chuckled under his breath and reached himself, saying, "Not a problem at all, I can do it!"
Sam, finding that he needed to say something to escape the embarrassment, "So, where's Tom?" Rosie's older brother, named after his father, had married Sam's younger sister Marigold. Sam still remembered the long talk that his father had put Tom through.
Mrs. Cotton sighed and said, "Still off in Bree. Wonder why on earth he even went away to that place, much safer here! No tall men to beat up my poor Tom and dearest Marigold." She shook her head.
"Tom never coming back!" Nibs wailed, pounding his pudgy hands on the table.
"'Course he's gonna come back!" Nick said, "Don't be stupid, Nibs!"
Mr. Cotton boomed, "Nick, Nib's just a lad! No use beating up on him!"
The evening continued on (and as loudly as before too) with several more spilt mugs and some little feuds between the three younger brothers. Rosie and Mrs. Cotton cleared away the table (Sam would've helped, but they insisted he didn't) and Nick and Jolly, excited about having a guest, had questioned Sam from everything from what his favorite food was to if he was going to marry Rosie.
"Oh." Sam flustered after being approached with the question, he waited till Rosie was out of the room, then whispered to them, "I don't know.I wouldn't mind."
Nick and Jolly laughed and giggled, then began to ask him other questions. Sam was relieved to get away from the subject of marrying Rosie. Marry Rosie? The idea made his spine tingle and goose bumps travel up his arms. He had a crush, that was all, and now that he was in the house of Rosie over to dinner made his butterflies swarm in his stomach. Sam's thoughts were thankfully broken by the booming voice of Mr. Cotton.
Sam stood outside the Cotton's hole, the evening had dragged on and also swept by quickly. The rest of the evening had been spent talking with the Cotton family, from everything from his family to the different type of flowers in his garden. But the night had grown and the evening vanished, so he was about to head home.
"Come back to play again, Sam!" Nibs said while Marabelle gurgled in her mother's arms.
"I'll try, Nibs." Sam said, he had grown fond of the small child, always crying over something he had done wrong and yet happy with an unknown cheerfulness.
"Rosie, invite him over again!" Nibs said happily, then ran back into the house to join his brothers in their games.
"Don't stay up too late, hey!" Mrs. Cotton called in after them, then sighed. She faced Sam with her smile and said, "Thank you for coming over, it was a pleasure!"
Sam, now feeling a little more confident in himself and closer to the Cotton family, said, "Thank you for having me, I've had the best of times this night!"
Mr. Cotton laughed a laugh that would've knocked down the tallest mountain. "You're just saying that to be nice, Sam!"
"I never lie." Sam replied.
Mr. Cotton glanced at Rosie then said, "Well, I best be off, farewell, Sam! Drop by any time you wish!" While he passed his wife on his way into the house he gave her a wink that no one could see but her.
"I must go as well, come by any day, you hear?" she said, bouncing the giggling Marabelle in her arms, "And if you harm my fence in any way, you better believe I won't hesitate to give the proper punishment!" she gave him a smile then disappeared inside the house, shutting the door behind her.
Sam and Rosie were now completely alone, and Sam immediately felt the wave of uneasy worry flow over him like rapids.
"Thanks for coming, Sam." She said, smiling. They hardly had time to talk to each other during the evening, since the brothers had prevented them from doing so.
"As I said before, it was wonderful. I could never ask for more, Rose." He replied, surprising himself at the sureness in his voice.
"I had a wonderful time too, but there's one thing." she looked at him and said, "never call me Rose. I am Rosie and you will call me that from now on."
She moved closer to him, "Next time I promise it will be just us." She lifted her head up higher and placed a simple kiss on his cheek. Sam felt his face go hot and he could bet on the One Ring that his face was probably as red as brick. Rosie smiled and then turned around, opening the door and closing it behind her.
Sam stood there for a moment, stunned. He had received a kiss from Rosie Cotton, only on the cheek, but it was something almost every hobbit his age dreamed of. And it was true for him. He touched his cheek with his rough fingers, still dazed by what had happened. Finding himself still standing in their front lawn, he turned around and started back to Bag End.
Was it true? Could Rosie actually be in love with him? Sam couldn't believe it, there were plenty other more smart or good looking hobbits out there, why him? A simple gardener with not a lot of money. Sam shook his head in confusion. Why him?
Then he came up with an answer, not the best of answers, but an answer. 'It doesn't really matter.' It was more of a Pippin sort of thought. He didn't care what it was about him that made ladies hang off his neck, he just enjoyed it. Sam laughed to himself, a smile spreading across his lips. 'Aren't I the lucky one?' he thought, then jumped in the air, laughing and running all the way back home.
