You Stoles Him From Us
By StarWolf
09/25/2003 - 8:30 P.M.
Title: You Stoles Him From Us
Author: StarWolf (elendraug@yahoo.com)
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Genre: Dark/angst
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Darkness and strangeness; this one may turn your stomach if you can't handle it. There are also potential hints of slash (male/male relationship).
Summary: It's not a good idea to take someone's true love away from them.
Authoress' Notes: Please remember that I haven't read The Return of the King (yet!).
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings belongs to Tolkien. My warped ideas belong to me.
Feedback: Is nice to have, and is very much appreciated.
Archive: Please leave it where I put it. If you take it without my permission, and I won't be a happy person. *death glare*
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Why did you have to show up here?! I just don't understand. Ever since you came into the picture, Sam pays less attention to me. It's always you that he's looking after now, with never a second thought to me. After all that had happened, I thought we could finally be together, safe in the Shire. But no. You ruined it. You ruined it all.
He used to spend every waking moment looking at me, gazing forlornly at me, pining for me; I was the one he couldn't have. Now that everything's over, I was sure that we'd realized our love for each other. But you! You somehow manage to interfere -- again!
I'd waited for years on end to get to this point with him. He finally declares what he feels for me, and you take it all away. We're living in the same house, and yet he doesn't seem to care about me anymore. Where did the "hello, love,"s and "how are you, dear?"s go? He's so fixated on you and your well-being that it's as if I've never even existed.
It amazes me, really. You have so much more intrinsic strength in you, but he still wastes all his time with you. Now I am the one in need. You'll be fine on your own, whether you believe it or not. I don't care anymore. Why must you steal him from me? It's just not fair.
Once I'd thought I was the one beauty that held him captive, the one that he longed to have but could not attain, the one he dreamed of at night. I'd thought that someday we'd be lovers, comfortable and quiet in a cozy home in this gorgeous area we live in. I'd tried so hard to get him to notice me, but all of my efforts were spoiled by you.
What's so special about you, anyway? My eyes are brighter than yours could ever be, and I certainly know more things than you do. I've always been there for him, but he failed to recognize my feelings, instead choosing to mope in his own self-doubt and confusion. And now that he'd finally made his move and we'd exchanged our endearments to each other, you still butt in and keep him from me!
How many times were there that all three of us were at the Green Dragon? I'd be valiantly trying to start a conversation, or offering to buy drinks, or simply trying to tear his wistful gaze from you. Ignored and forgotten, I came to face the harsh reality that his affections were for you alone, and had been this entire time. It was incredibly depressing and maddening. We would've been so good together -- even my friends and relatives thought so! Alas; he wouldn't ever care for me as long as you were around.
Why must I endure this emotional torture?
Oh, but you continuously rub in my face the fact that he's not truly mine! It's sickening. You're doing some menial task, and he rushes to help you, as if it was a terribly difficult undertaking. You lose your footing, and he's instantly at your side, eager to hold you as he eases you into balance. The smiles, the laughter, the inside jokes that I'll never know of. It makes me want to--
It's not fair. It simply is not.
And when life's not fair, you have to do something for yourself, right? If you want something done, you have to accomplish it on your own. You never quite grasped that concept, did you? You want him to attend to your every need, and the most infuriating thing is that he does. He listens to you. Never to me. No matter what I do to get through to him, I'm ignored -- pushed aside to be dealt with later.
Well, it's going to end now. Tonight, in fact.
Because everyone needs air to breathe, to live, and if it's not getting to your pretty little head, you'll be gone before the sun comes up. I'll just take this nice piece of clothesline and tie it around your pale, smooth neck, and that'll be the end of you.
Sweet dreams, you selfish little whore.
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Sam woke up the next morning to find that Frodo had been violently strangled in his sleep. He wanted to scream, and to cry, and to die of grief, anger, and incomprehension simultaneously, but it was as if Frodo's lack of breath had influenced Sam's own lungs. He desperately longed for an answer, a reason, and a person, event, or deity to blame.
"What's the matter, Sam, dear?"
And Rosie strode up from behind him and slid her arms around his waist, where he couldn't see the satisfied smirk on her face.
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Thanks for reading -- show's over, folks. No, there will not be a sequel, though I apologize for it being a bit on the short side. Don't waste your cellular respiration by typing the words to beg me for a continuation. I don't have the time. Sorry. Reviews are worshipped, and if you have fics posted, I'll make an effort to review some of them for you, as well. Thanks in advance.
...and yes, I fully intended to disturb all of you people. The question is... did it work?