Authors Note: Yep, another update already. Today is an in-service day at school so I have no work! *dances happily about* So, I was able to do the next chapter. I wish to thank all everyone who has encouraged me to keep writing this -- a particular thank you to loveofthering, DiamondTook3, and Celebrindal (congratulations on not being too lazy today ;D). You three have just about reviewed every chapter.
Chapter Nine: Of Musings, Gifts, and a Candle
Rosie bids her cousins good night before leaving them. Aside from the giggling voices of Lily and Rosemary that drift from the closed door into the hallway, the house is completely silent. Aunt May has retired earlier than usual to her bed; she had complained of a headache. This had made Aunt May only grumpier and short-tempered, even with her daughters on whom she dotes.
Rosie makes her way to the kitchen. She still has to clean the dishes, tidy the room, and plan the meals for the next day before going to bed. Not that she plans on going right to bed once she is free...
Rosie washes the dirty dishes in water before rubbing soap on them to get them all clean. She works much more slowly than usual. She pauses in her rubbing to gaze absently out the window into the darkness before returning to her work with a slight jerk. Finally, she dries the dishes and stores them in the cupboards. She wipes the table and counter with an extra rag. She starts sweeping the floor but slowly comes to a halt.
She replays the scene another time in her mind: The afternoon sun played in his hair. His face seemed haunted with shadows from the horrific things he had encountered on his journey. His mouth was turned down with sadness. Pain was in his eyes. He was much thinner than she remembered -- he had been a little chubby. But she also saw that it seemed that the innocence was gone from his eyes; he now knew about troubles and sorrows that he had not seen before leaving the Shire. This was the famous Samwise the Brave.
Just remembering the surprise encounter causes Rosie's heart to race. She had been so shocked when she realized it was he. She had never seen him so close before. She had nearly called out but remembered her aunt's demand. She had then been ashamed to be seen in her inappropriate dress and looked at the ground as they neared. How sweet his voice sounded! It had been so long since she had last heard that voice that she loved. And when he smiled, she saw a little of the old Sam. She had been in an air of disbelief the rest of the way home. She was half glad and half sad that he did not recognize her.
I wonder if any lass has caught his fancy. The thought scares Rosie. But she cannot help wondering. Giving herself a mental slap, she hurries with the rest of the sweeping so she can go to sleep.
Rosie carefully sets the candle on the floor; the flame flickers but does not die out. Rosie pulls the basket Ms. Willow gave her out from under her bed. Now curious, she opens the basket and peeks inside. Her eyes widen in surprise; then she reaches in and pulls out a yellow dress. Rosie sharply draws in her breath as she examines the dress. She fleetingly brushes her fingers against the lovely cloth.
"Yellow, Sam's favorite color," she remarks absently to the candle, her only companion. The candle answers by glowing more brightly, perhaps a bit insulted by the remark. "Now why did I just say that? Sam, Sam, can I think of nothing else this night?" Rosie scolds herself. She notices the irked candle and quickly makes amends. "But the yellow of your flame is lovely also, mixed with orange and red, too." She smiles at the candle sweetly.
She then quickly and gently folds the dress and puts it back inside the basket.
"What have I done to deserve such a gift?" Rosie whispers wonderingly to the candle, resting her hands on her legs and shakes her head. Her companion, which is not interested in such conversations, only flickers once warningly.
"Now don't go asleep just yet!" Rosie rebukes the candle. "I am not quite as ready as you are." She pushes her basket -- her treasure chest she silently names it -- back into its hiding place. She then quickly changes into her nightgown and then settles herself as comfortably as she can in her bed. She pulls her blanket close around her and then gives the impatient candle her best stern look.
"Come, now, surely you have been more patient before, no?" She sighs as the candle makes shadows dance on the walls." You mean to tell me you have never pined for someone? Or daydreamed for hours on end? Or thought there was something more interesting waiting for you?"
Her companion loses its temper, glowing all the more brightly, giving Rosie a piece of its mind.
"Yes, I have to agree anything would be more interesting than your having to listen to me, sounding like a lovesick lass," Rosie nods, feeling sorry for the poor thing. "I shall not keep you up any longer."
The candle seems to smile by dimming before it completely goes out from Rosie's blow.
"Good night."
Smoke trails up from the wick.
