Aw shucks. I haven't been updating this even close to as often as I would
like to. *sigh* It's my schoolwork's fault. Don't blame me. Also, the
muse for this story seems to like to work at a slow pace. Can't get ahead
of the muse.
Loveofthering: Yes! We all love Sam! *huggles Sam* I am crying for him too. I am glad you like how I am writing Bilbo. He is a tough character for me.
MLynnBloom: Ah yes, school is very dominating indeed. Nasssty teacherses. *shakes angry fist* Oh, and I'm sure Sam would love your Chicken Noodle Soup! :0)
MBradford: It's ok! You don't have to be sorry. *hugs* Oh, now you are getting ahead of yourself there! :0) I actually didn't plan for Sam to become sick as well. I just wanted to show what a close call it was. Hmm . . . well, maybe my muse may come up with something later on.
Crimson-dawn123: Yay! New reviewer! *hugs* I'm glad you are enjoying the story!
Lemondrop: You are so kind! :0) Yes of course, can't have comfort without blankets and tea, right? Hehe. You know, you should get a pen name for this site. I'll come read any hobbit stories you may write!
Alright. I'm sorry if these first few chapters have progressed a bit slowly. It took longer to set the stage than I thought. After this one, it should start getting going. Probably because it will start getting to the parts that prompted me writing this story iun the first place!
On with the story!
******************************************************
Frodo simply stood facing the door for a moment, although he wasn't quite sure what he was expecting to gain out of it. For some reason, he felt that it would momentarily burst open to a smiling face. Maybe it would be Bilbo, informing both he and Sam that Bell Gamgee was perfectly fine, or even better, Mrs. Gamgee herself coming to collect her youngest son who had gotten upset over nothing. For a fleeting second, Frodo even half expected to see two loving faces long gone that he hadn't seen since childhood . . .
He snapped out of reverie at a small voice.
"Mr. Frodo?"
Behind him, Frodo saw little Samwise watching him with wide eyes and clutching a blanket around himself.
Frodo sighed. "Sam, you should still be back in the parlor. Aren't you cold out here?" The tiny hobbit shook his head no. "Alright Sam," Frodo told him softly. "Come along." He began walking down the passageway, before realizing that no one was following him. Sam was still standing rooted to the spot, staring at him blankly. "Come on Sam!" Said Frodo, holding out his hand and beckoning for Sam to come.
"Where are we going?" Sam asked finally.
Frodo tilted his head as if this was obvious. "I am going to take you back to a spare bedroom so you can get some rest."
His eyes widening even further, Sam whispered in an almost frightened voice, "I can't go home?"
Clearly puzzled by now, Frodo knelt down beside his little friend, making them roughly the same height so that they could look each other in the eye. "I thought you didn't want to go home."
Sam's eyes filled with tears, though none fell. "You don't want me to go home." He whimpered. "Momma must really be sick." A single tear coursed down his cheek. "My Momma's going to die."
Even though he had no idea what he had done wrong to scare the child so much, Frodo mentally kicked himself. 'I must not be very good at dealing with children,' he thought. Not knowing what else to do, he enveloped Sam in a hug.
"Sam," he said gently. "I won't pretend to know whether your mother is okay or not." He embraced Sam even more firmly. "I will tell you that my Uncle Bilbo and I will do everything we can to help you and your family right now." He let go carefully, still keeping his hands on the lad's shoulders. "And right now, that means letting you get some sleep. It is very late, and most likely past your bedtime."
Sam complied with a silent nod, reaching up with his hand to scrub away the tears. Wrapping the blanket more tightly around Sam, Frodo then led Sam back into one of Bag End's guest bedrooms. He tucked Sam into the bed, and started to leave the room, turning out the lights as he went.
"Mr. Frodo?"
The frightened whisper caused him to turn around. "What's wrong Sam?"
Glancing furtively from side to side, Sam then answered timidly. "It's really dark in here." His cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment. "Could you stay with me? Until I fall asleep that is?"
Frodo smiled reassuringly. "Of course Sam."
********************************************************
So it was that Bilbo found them a while later. Sam was sound asleep (and snoring lightly), and Frodo was sitting beside the bed, tenderly brushing the lad's wayward golden curls back from his brow.
Frodo, seeing Bilbo entering the room, stood quickly, his a face an anxious mask. "Uncle Bilbo!" He gasped softly. "You're back! Is. . . ?" He trailed off, seeing the solemn expression on his elderly relative's face.
Bilbo shook his head sadly. "Mrs. Gamgee is very ill. Sam was not lying in the least."
Not pacified yet, Frodo inquired again, wanting to know for sure, but dreading the answer he was going to get. "Will she . . . will she be all right?"
Sighing, Bilbo realized that there was no way to sugarcoat this. "The malady has already reached her lungs, and she can hardly breathe. The doctor says that she will most likely not live through the night."
Frodo stifled a grieved moan. "Oh . . . poor Sam . . ."
The young hobbit slept through it all, completely unaware of the sorrow he would most likely wake up to. His features were smooth and carefree, for his mind wandered in the last pleasant dreams he would experience for a long while.
TBC
Loveofthering: Yes! We all love Sam! *huggles Sam* I am crying for him too. I am glad you like how I am writing Bilbo. He is a tough character for me.
MLynnBloom: Ah yes, school is very dominating indeed. Nasssty teacherses. *shakes angry fist* Oh, and I'm sure Sam would love your Chicken Noodle Soup! :0)
MBradford: It's ok! You don't have to be sorry. *hugs* Oh, now you are getting ahead of yourself there! :0) I actually didn't plan for Sam to become sick as well. I just wanted to show what a close call it was. Hmm . . . well, maybe my muse may come up with something later on.
Crimson-dawn123: Yay! New reviewer! *hugs* I'm glad you are enjoying the story!
Lemondrop: You are so kind! :0) Yes of course, can't have comfort without blankets and tea, right? Hehe. You know, you should get a pen name for this site. I'll come read any hobbit stories you may write!
Alright. I'm sorry if these first few chapters have progressed a bit slowly. It took longer to set the stage than I thought. After this one, it should start getting going. Probably because it will start getting to the parts that prompted me writing this story iun the first place!
On with the story!
******************************************************
Frodo simply stood facing the door for a moment, although he wasn't quite sure what he was expecting to gain out of it. For some reason, he felt that it would momentarily burst open to a smiling face. Maybe it would be Bilbo, informing both he and Sam that Bell Gamgee was perfectly fine, or even better, Mrs. Gamgee herself coming to collect her youngest son who had gotten upset over nothing. For a fleeting second, Frodo even half expected to see two loving faces long gone that he hadn't seen since childhood . . .
He snapped out of reverie at a small voice.
"Mr. Frodo?"
Behind him, Frodo saw little Samwise watching him with wide eyes and clutching a blanket around himself.
Frodo sighed. "Sam, you should still be back in the parlor. Aren't you cold out here?" The tiny hobbit shook his head no. "Alright Sam," Frodo told him softly. "Come along." He began walking down the passageway, before realizing that no one was following him. Sam was still standing rooted to the spot, staring at him blankly. "Come on Sam!" Said Frodo, holding out his hand and beckoning for Sam to come.
"Where are we going?" Sam asked finally.
Frodo tilted his head as if this was obvious. "I am going to take you back to a spare bedroom so you can get some rest."
His eyes widening even further, Sam whispered in an almost frightened voice, "I can't go home?"
Clearly puzzled by now, Frodo knelt down beside his little friend, making them roughly the same height so that they could look each other in the eye. "I thought you didn't want to go home."
Sam's eyes filled with tears, though none fell. "You don't want me to go home." He whimpered. "Momma must really be sick." A single tear coursed down his cheek. "My Momma's going to die."
Even though he had no idea what he had done wrong to scare the child so much, Frodo mentally kicked himself. 'I must not be very good at dealing with children,' he thought. Not knowing what else to do, he enveloped Sam in a hug.
"Sam," he said gently. "I won't pretend to know whether your mother is okay or not." He embraced Sam even more firmly. "I will tell you that my Uncle Bilbo and I will do everything we can to help you and your family right now." He let go carefully, still keeping his hands on the lad's shoulders. "And right now, that means letting you get some sleep. It is very late, and most likely past your bedtime."
Sam complied with a silent nod, reaching up with his hand to scrub away the tears. Wrapping the blanket more tightly around Sam, Frodo then led Sam back into one of Bag End's guest bedrooms. He tucked Sam into the bed, and started to leave the room, turning out the lights as he went.
"Mr. Frodo?"
The frightened whisper caused him to turn around. "What's wrong Sam?"
Glancing furtively from side to side, Sam then answered timidly. "It's really dark in here." His cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment. "Could you stay with me? Until I fall asleep that is?"
Frodo smiled reassuringly. "Of course Sam."
********************************************************
So it was that Bilbo found them a while later. Sam was sound asleep (and snoring lightly), and Frodo was sitting beside the bed, tenderly brushing the lad's wayward golden curls back from his brow.
Frodo, seeing Bilbo entering the room, stood quickly, his a face an anxious mask. "Uncle Bilbo!" He gasped softly. "You're back! Is. . . ?" He trailed off, seeing the solemn expression on his elderly relative's face.
Bilbo shook his head sadly. "Mrs. Gamgee is very ill. Sam was not lying in the least."
Not pacified yet, Frodo inquired again, wanting to know for sure, but dreading the answer he was going to get. "Will she . . . will she be all right?"
Sighing, Bilbo realized that there was no way to sugarcoat this. "The malady has already reached her lungs, and she can hardly breathe. The doctor says that she will most likely not live through the night."
Frodo stifled a grieved moan. "Oh . . . poor Sam . . ."
The young hobbit slept through it all, completely unaware of the sorrow he would most likely wake up to. His features were smooth and carefree, for his mind wandered in the last pleasant dreams he would experience for a long while.
TBC