The Politics Of Gardening
Elrond sat cross-legged beneath a tree in the garden of Bag End, watching Sam hard at work.
"You look hot, Sam," Elrond commented. "I confess, when it comes to gardening, I prefer to watch others labour."
Sam joined him in the shade, surveying the garden proudly. "My old Da were a terror on weeds and such – but I prefer a more liberal approach. Even weeds have their place, I reckon."
The door opened, and Sam's little niece flew across the garden. "A 'tory, Uncle! A 'tory!" she lisped.
Sam settled her on his lap. "Aye," he agreed comfortably. "A story."
Author's Notes: A birthday drabble for paranoidangel (Nic), who is a fellow Review Admin at HASA. She requested Elrond and Sam, so I've pretended that Elrond visited the Hobbits at some point.
Her birthday's on May 5th, a significant date in the UK as it is the General Election. I've played with that idea a little!