Early CMEM-08 Post and Computer Troubles
Mar. 24th, 2008 08:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
febobeMy laptop slipped off my lap tonight, and the power supply got bent some way, so now it'll only operate on battery, meaning I'm typing on borrowed time till I can try a new power cord and see if that does it. PRAY/WISH/HOPE. :(
Since I'll be getting on the road early for travel tomorrow plus I don't know how long the battery will hold on this thing, I thought I'd go ahead and make my Tuesday CMEM-08 posting. It's a fic set in my Silence AU. For those unfamiliar with my Silence AU, in it Frodo didn't sail West, but continued to live with Sam, Rosie, and their children in Bag End as one big happy family ("Uncle Frodo").
So, without further ado, the story! Enjoy! Rating for angstiness, some dark subject matter, and one bathing hobbit.
No. . .
Frodo shivered as he opened his eyes, swallowing against a dry throat. His night-shirt and bedclothes were soaked with sweat, and his right hand clutched Arwen's jewel.
Elanor's birthday.
It grew harder every year. But as always, he would try to struggle through it, for her sake. Everyone had grown accustomed to his excusing himself from the party a little early, and if they noticed anything, they did not speak of it.
This year was different, though. Elanorelle would be twenty, a proper tweenager. She would expect him to stay, to - sweet Eru, to dance with her, to be present for everything. . . .
How he wished it were so simple!
A knock at the door heralded Sam's arrival with his first-breakfast. Tweenager's birthday or no, Sam looked concerned as he set the tray on the bed, and paused to bend over his master, laying a sturdy brown hand against Frodo's forehead.
"Mr. Frodo, are you sure you ought to be getting up today?"
"It's Elanor's birthday. I won't disappoint her."
"She's old enough to understand what happened." Sam folded his arms across his chest, his expression sympathetic. "They'll all have to learn some time."
"I think Elanor already knows more than the others." Frodo sighed, shaking his head. "No, Sam. I'll be up in time for the party. Only let me stay here as long as I can. Tell Elly I'm resting up for her."
"I will." Sam uncovered the tray, unveiling Frodo's usual first breakfast of toast, marmalade, and warm milk. "Eat up now, sir. Would you rather I set you up in your chair and change your bed while you eat?"
The thought of sitting up in an arm-chair was unbearable at the moment, damp bedding or not. "No, thank you, Sam. I would prefer we did that afterward, if it's not too much trouble."
"No trouble at all, sir. I'll look back in on you in a bit."
And with that, he was gone, leaving Frodo alone with his tray.
***
Frodo managed to make a fair dent in first breakfast, albeit slowly. He still felt shaky and sick, but with a will he forced a little of the warm nourishment down, and by the time Sam came to retrieve his tray and help him to the arm-chair to change his bed, he felt strong enough to shuffle over while leaning heavily on Sam's strong shoulder. Still, he was grateful when Sam pushed a foot-stool beneath his feet and tucked him up with blankets: he felt chilled being out of bed, and the covering afforded him the opportunity to cling to Arwen's jewel without Sam's noticing.
"Now, what you need is a nice hot bath, master, and no mistake." Sam stepped back, studying his charge anxiously. "Why don't I get you a tub ready so's you can have a good soak while I change your bed? Warmer, that is, and no mistake."
Frodo nodded. "Yes, thank you, Sam. I should like that very much." Closing his eyes, he waited until he felt Sam's gentle touch on his arm before looking up, allowing his companion to help him rise once more and help him to the nearest bath-room, where a tub of hot water awaited him. Sam slipped his night-shirt over his head, then helped him step in and sit down, easing him gingerly back against the tub's edge before lathering up a washcloth with a thick bar of peppermint soap.
"There you are, then, Mr. Frodo. Would you like a bit of help, or are you feeling up to it yourself?"
"Thank you, Sam. . .I think I can manage that much." Taking the washcloth, he began to wash himself, scrubbing neck and shoulders, chest and arms. It felt wonderful.
"Just say the word when and I'll get your back, master."
Dear Sam. Nodding, Frodo finished up a bit more before relinquishing the washcloth, sitting up slightly for Sam to bathe his back. It felt wonderful, even better than one of Lord Elrond's massages because of the familiar, beloved touch.
"Sam-dad!"
Elanor's voice. At once Frodo stiffened, but Sam kept working methodically, calm as ever.
"Just you keep that door closed tight shut, Elanor. Mr. Frodo's havin' his bath."
"Oh!" A pause. "I'm sorry. But - both of you - Frodo-lad and I can't agree. Frodo-lad says you don't get to hear all the stories out of the Red Book till you turn thirty-three. I say you get to hear them when you turn twenty. Which of us is right?"
Frodo and Sam exchanged looks.
"She has to learn some time," murmured Sam softly after a long moment.
Frodo nodded gravely. "That she does. But to take her innocence - "
"Mr. Frodo. . ." Sam laid a warm brown hand on Frodo's left shoulder. "I think her innocence is already gone."
***
Back in a fresh bed, dressed in a fresh night-shirt, tucked up with good thick quilts and fluffy feather-pillows and a cup of ginger and cinnamon tea, Frodo felt himself more at ease, less oppressed by the darkness that threatened to close in around him. When Sam brought second breakfast, he did his best to swallow a few mouthfuls of eggs and griddle-cakes with syrup; when Sam brought elevenses, he forced himself to drink some tea and eat half a jam sandwich. As he expected, Rosie remained at work on Elanor's birthday and let him be, and Sam saw to his needs while leaving him in peace.
What he did not expect, however, was what followed the knock that afternoon.
Backing in while carrying a luncheon-tray came Elanor, her golden hair already done up as if for the party, a mass of fine curls pinned back. She still wore one of her casual dresses, a simple frock of pale blue linen, with an apron over it, and she smiled warmly as she came to set the tray upon the bed.
"Good afternoon, Uncle Frodo. Will you try and eat something for luncheon? Sam-dad thought it might help."
Frodo blinked uncertainly. "Is he all right?"
"Oh, yes! I told him I'd bring it. I've not gotten to see you all day, after all."
No, she hasn't, and on her special day at that, mused Frodo guiltily. Aloud he said, "Forgive me, Elanorelle. I would make poor company today, I fear. . .but I am resting up for your party this evening."
"Oh, pish!" Elanor snorted, shrugging. "If you feel up to coming, please come. If you don't, don't worry about it. I shall get my dance one way or another, whether I take it tonight or next week or next year or whenever." Her eyes danced merrily. "Now have a look at your luncheon and see if you can't get something down."
Staring at her in astonishment, Frodo finally managed to tear his eyes from her face and look at the newly uncovered tray. There were all sorts of treats: creamy chicken and mushroom soup, good plain roast chicken, mashed potatoes, croustade of creamed peas, glazed carrots, soft rolls with sweet butter, baked custard, hot tea, wine jelly, and a pear in a "night-shirt."
He had to admit that it did look delicious.
"Thank you, Elanorelle - I'm sure it's wonderful."
"Then try some for me." She waited patiently, perching in the chair by the bed. "If you need help, just tell me."
Thankfully, his hands proved remarkably steady. . .probably because he had been napping with one hand around Arwen's gem all morning, save for mealtimes. Cautiously he took up spoon and began to try the soup.
"So you wish to hear the stories from the Red Book this year."
She nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes! All of them, please."
Frodo sighed. "Elanorelle. . .you do know by now that not all of them are pretty tales, with happily-ever-after endings."
"I know." Her face was sympathetic. "That is why I need to learn them. I need to understand about you and Sam-dad. About the War."
The War. Frodo mustered a soft smile and a bite of mashed potato. "What would you most like to hear that you have not yet heard?"
Elanor considered for a moment, pulling her knees up to her chest. "What you and Sam-dad did. About your journey."
So I feared. Considering for a long moment himself, Frodo bit into a glazed carrot thoughtfully before replying. "What if I were to tell you that story, as much as I can of it, today. . .until you have to finish getting ready for your party?"
Their eyes met.
"Could you?"
Frodo nodded. "I do not know whether I will be able to dance with you tonight, dearest. But this birthday-gift I can give you, so long as you are patient with me. What we do not finish before the party, we shall finish after. I think Sam-dad will make an exception to your bedtime for tonight - and besides, it will be later now that you are older anyhow."
***
"Why did you tell her?"
Frodo mustered a weak smile as Sam helped reposition him in his freshly made bed. "She needed to hear. It was the only gift I could give her that she wanted."
"Mr. Frodo, it's fair near drained you dry. . .and you haven't even finished telling her yet!"
From the parlour Frodo could hear the sounds of music and laughter. "No. But I will."
"That last bit laid you right low, it did. How d'you expect to manage the rest?"
"I'll manage it somehow. For Elanor."
Sam shook his head. "Reckon I'd better be getting you something else to eat, then."
He turned to go, but Frodo caught his jacket.
"Sam. . .it is the only thing I can give her."
Warm brown eyes met Frodo's gaze sadly. "I know, Mr. Frodo. I know."
"Sam?"
"Yes, Mr. Frodo?"
"One more thing before you go. . ."
Sam paused. "O'course, sir. What is it?"
Cautiously Frodo pushed himself up in bed. "Help me with my dressing-gown and get me to my arm-chair, please? I want to be waiting there for Elanor when she returns."
"Oh, now, sir - "
"Please, Sam?"
***
"Have you had a good evening, Elanorelle?"
The shock that registered on Elanor's face brought a laugh bubbling to Frodo's lips as he watched her run from the doorway, dropping to embrace him in his chair, kissing him on his forehead.
"Uncle Frodo! Aren't you tired? I thought you might have gone to sleep waiting! I didn't mean to be so long in coming - "
"Nonsense. You only turn twenty once." Frodo watched as Elanor set a plate on the table beside him.
"Mother Rose is bringing you some punch; she didn't want me to have to carry two things and risk spilling on my new dress. See, there's cake with boiled sugar icing, and there's butter mints, and there's even stuffed mushrooms - your favourite - "
"Thank you, Elanorelle." Frodo smiled as Rose bustled in and out with a cupful of punch, setting it close to hand and closing the door behind her. The strains of music could still be heard floating from the parlour.
Carefully he pushed himself up from the chair, extending his arm. "I believe, my lady, that I promised you a dance. If it is not too late to claim it. . . ."
Elanor's eyes widened. "Uncle Frodo! You shouldn't - Sam-dad will have my head - "
"Not if I tell him it was my idea, which it was." Frodo winked. "At any rate, may I have this dance?"
She hesitated. "Are you certain you aren't too tired?"
"Elanor, I am always tired. Let it once be for good cause."
Smiling, she accepted his arm and turned to face him, taking his hand as he slipped his arm about her waist. Away they went, dancing, dancing, slowly back and forth around the room. After several turns - enough for a full dance - Frodo found his breath growing short, dizziness coming on, but he managed to bow steadily to Elanor nonetheless before reclaiming his seat and reaching for a stuffed mushroom, the still-warm nourishment restoring some sense of equilibrium. Catching his breath, he looked at Elanor's face.
She was glowing.
Worth every minute, Frodo thought. Every last minute.
"Shall we continue?" he asked aloud.
-the end-
Since I'll be getting on the road early for travel tomorrow plus I don't know how long the battery will hold on this thing, I thought I'd go ahead and make my Tuesday CMEM-08 posting. It's a fic set in my Silence AU. For those unfamiliar with my Silence AU, in it Frodo didn't sail West, but continued to live with Sam, Rosie, and their children in Bag End as one big happy family ("Uncle Frodo").
So, without further ado, the story! Enjoy! Rating for angstiness, some dark subject matter, and one bathing hobbit.
No. . .
Frodo shivered as he opened his eyes, swallowing against a dry throat. His night-shirt and bedclothes were soaked with sweat, and his right hand clutched Arwen's jewel.
Elanor's birthday.
It grew harder every year. But as always, he would try to struggle through it, for her sake. Everyone had grown accustomed to his excusing himself from the party a little early, and if they noticed anything, they did not speak of it.
This year was different, though. Elanorelle would be twenty, a proper tweenager. She would expect him to stay, to - sweet Eru, to dance with her, to be present for everything. . . .
How he wished it were so simple!
A knock at the door heralded Sam's arrival with his first-breakfast. Tweenager's birthday or no, Sam looked concerned as he set the tray on the bed, and paused to bend over his master, laying a sturdy brown hand against Frodo's forehead.
"Mr. Frodo, are you sure you ought to be getting up today?"
"It's Elanor's birthday. I won't disappoint her."
"She's old enough to understand what happened." Sam folded his arms across his chest, his expression sympathetic. "They'll all have to learn some time."
"I think Elanor already knows more than the others." Frodo sighed, shaking his head. "No, Sam. I'll be up in time for the party. Only let me stay here as long as I can. Tell Elly I'm resting up for her."
"I will." Sam uncovered the tray, unveiling Frodo's usual first breakfast of toast, marmalade, and warm milk. "Eat up now, sir. Would you rather I set you up in your chair and change your bed while you eat?"
The thought of sitting up in an arm-chair was unbearable at the moment, damp bedding or not. "No, thank you, Sam. I would prefer we did that afterward, if it's not too much trouble."
"No trouble at all, sir. I'll look back in on you in a bit."
And with that, he was gone, leaving Frodo alone with his tray.
***
Frodo managed to make a fair dent in first breakfast, albeit slowly. He still felt shaky and sick, but with a will he forced a little of the warm nourishment down, and by the time Sam came to retrieve his tray and help him to the arm-chair to change his bed, he felt strong enough to shuffle over while leaning heavily on Sam's strong shoulder. Still, he was grateful when Sam pushed a foot-stool beneath his feet and tucked him up with blankets: he felt chilled being out of bed, and the covering afforded him the opportunity to cling to Arwen's jewel without Sam's noticing.
"Now, what you need is a nice hot bath, master, and no mistake." Sam stepped back, studying his charge anxiously. "Why don't I get you a tub ready so's you can have a good soak while I change your bed? Warmer, that is, and no mistake."
Frodo nodded. "Yes, thank you, Sam. I should like that very much." Closing his eyes, he waited until he felt Sam's gentle touch on his arm before looking up, allowing his companion to help him rise once more and help him to the nearest bath-room, where a tub of hot water awaited him. Sam slipped his night-shirt over his head, then helped him step in and sit down, easing him gingerly back against the tub's edge before lathering up a washcloth with a thick bar of peppermint soap.
"There you are, then, Mr. Frodo. Would you like a bit of help, or are you feeling up to it yourself?"
"Thank you, Sam. . .I think I can manage that much." Taking the washcloth, he began to wash himself, scrubbing neck and shoulders, chest and arms. It felt wonderful.
"Just say the word when and I'll get your back, master."
Dear Sam. Nodding, Frodo finished up a bit more before relinquishing the washcloth, sitting up slightly for Sam to bathe his back. It felt wonderful, even better than one of Lord Elrond's massages because of the familiar, beloved touch.
"Sam-dad!"
Elanor's voice. At once Frodo stiffened, but Sam kept working methodically, calm as ever.
"Just you keep that door closed tight shut, Elanor. Mr. Frodo's havin' his bath."
"Oh!" A pause. "I'm sorry. But - both of you - Frodo-lad and I can't agree. Frodo-lad says you don't get to hear all the stories out of the Red Book till you turn thirty-three. I say you get to hear them when you turn twenty. Which of us is right?"
Frodo and Sam exchanged looks.
"She has to learn some time," murmured Sam softly after a long moment.
Frodo nodded gravely. "That she does. But to take her innocence - "
"Mr. Frodo. . ." Sam laid a warm brown hand on Frodo's left shoulder. "I think her innocence is already gone."
***
Back in a fresh bed, dressed in a fresh night-shirt, tucked up with good thick quilts and fluffy feather-pillows and a cup of ginger and cinnamon tea, Frodo felt himself more at ease, less oppressed by the darkness that threatened to close in around him. When Sam brought second breakfast, he did his best to swallow a few mouthfuls of eggs and griddle-cakes with syrup; when Sam brought elevenses, he forced himself to drink some tea and eat half a jam sandwich. As he expected, Rosie remained at work on Elanor's birthday and let him be, and Sam saw to his needs while leaving him in peace.
What he did not expect, however, was what followed the knock that afternoon.
Backing in while carrying a luncheon-tray came Elanor, her golden hair already done up as if for the party, a mass of fine curls pinned back. She still wore one of her casual dresses, a simple frock of pale blue linen, with an apron over it, and she smiled warmly as she came to set the tray upon the bed.
"Good afternoon, Uncle Frodo. Will you try and eat something for luncheon? Sam-dad thought it might help."
Frodo blinked uncertainly. "Is he all right?"
"Oh, yes! I told him I'd bring it. I've not gotten to see you all day, after all."
No, she hasn't, and on her special day at that, mused Frodo guiltily. Aloud he said, "Forgive me, Elanorelle. I would make poor company today, I fear. . .but I am resting up for your party this evening."
"Oh, pish!" Elanor snorted, shrugging. "If you feel up to coming, please come. If you don't, don't worry about it. I shall get my dance one way or another, whether I take it tonight or next week or next year or whenever." Her eyes danced merrily. "Now have a look at your luncheon and see if you can't get something down."
Staring at her in astonishment, Frodo finally managed to tear his eyes from her face and look at the newly uncovered tray. There were all sorts of treats: creamy chicken and mushroom soup, good plain roast chicken, mashed potatoes, croustade of creamed peas, glazed carrots, soft rolls with sweet butter, baked custard, hot tea, wine jelly, and a pear in a "night-shirt."
He had to admit that it did look delicious.
"Thank you, Elanorelle - I'm sure it's wonderful."
"Then try some for me." She waited patiently, perching in the chair by the bed. "If you need help, just tell me."
Thankfully, his hands proved remarkably steady. . .probably because he had been napping with one hand around Arwen's gem all morning, save for mealtimes. Cautiously he took up spoon and began to try the soup.
"So you wish to hear the stories from the Red Book this year."
She nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes! All of them, please."
Frodo sighed. "Elanorelle. . .you do know by now that not all of them are pretty tales, with happily-ever-after endings."
"I know." Her face was sympathetic. "That is why I need to learn them. I need to understand about you and Sam-dad. About the War."
The War. Frodo mustered a soft smile and a bite of mashed potato. "What would you most like to hear that you have not yet heard?"
Elanor considered for a moment, pulling her knees up to her chest. "What you and Sam-dad did. About your journey."
So I feared. Considering for a long moment himself, Frodo bit into a glazed carrot thoughtfully before replying. "What if I were to tell you that story, as much as I can of it, today. . .until you have to finish getting ready for your party?"
Their eyes met.
"Could you?"
Frodo nodded. "I do not know whether I will be able to dance with you tonight, dearest. But this birthday-gift I can give you, so long as you are patient with me. What we do not finish before the party, we shall finish after. I think Sam-dad will make an exception to your bedtime for tonight - and besides, it will be later now that you are older anyhow."
***
"Why did you tell her?"
Frodo mustered a weak smile as Sam helped reposition him in his freshly made bed. "She needed to hear. It was the only gift I could give her that she wanted."
"Mr. Frodo, it's fair near drained you dry. . .and you haven't even finished telling her yet!"
From the parlour Frodo could hear the sounds of music and laughter. "No. But I will."
"That last bit laid you right low, it did. How d'you expect to manage the rest?"
"I'll manage it somehow. For Elanor."
Sam shook his head. "Reckon I'd better be getting you something else to eat, then."
He turned to go, but Frodo caught his jacket.
"Sam. . .it is the only thing I can give her."
Warm brown eyes met Frodo's gaze sadly. "I know, Mr. Frodo. I know."
"Sam?"
"Yes, Mr. Frodo?"
"One more thing before you go. . ."
Sam paused. "O'course, sir. What is it?"
Cautiously Frodo pushed himself up in bed. "Help me with my dressing-gown and get me to my arm-chair, please? I want to be waiting there for Elanor when she returns."
"Oh, now, sir - "
"Please, Sam?"
***
"Have you had a good evening, Elanorelle?"
The shock that registered on Elanor's face brought a laugh bubbling to Frodo's lips as he watched her run from the doorway, dropping to embrace him in his chair, kissing him on his forehead.
"Uncle Frodo! Aren't you tired? I thought you might have gone to sleep waiting! I didn't mean to be so long in coming - "
"Nonsense. You only turn twenty once." Frodo watched as Elanor set a plate on the table beside him.
"Mother Rose is bringing you some punch; she didn't want me to have to carry two things and risk spilling on my new dress. See, there's cake with boiled sugar icing, and there's butter mints, and there's even stuffed mushrooms - your favourite - "
"Thank you, Elanorelle." Frodo smiled as Rose bustled in and out with a cupful of punch, setting it close to hand and closing the door behind her. The strains of music could still be heard floating from the parlour.
Carefully he pushed himself up from the chair, extending his arm. "I believe, my lady, that I promised you a dance. If it is not too late to claim it. . . ."
Elanor's eyes widened. "Uncle Frodo! You shouldn't - Sam-dad will have my head - "
"Not if I tell him it was my idea, which it was." Frodo winked. "At any rate, may I have this dance?"
She hesitated. "Are you certain you aren't too tired?"
"Elanor, I am always tired. Let it once be for good cause."
Smiling, she accepted his arm and turned to face him, taking his hand as he slipped his arm about her waist. Away they went, dancing, dancing, slowly back and forth around the room. After several turns - enough for a full dance - Frodo found his breath growing short, dizziness coming on, but he managed to bow steadily to Elanor nonetheless before reclaiming his seat and reaching for a stuffed mushroom, the still-warm nourishment restoring some sense of equilibrium. Catching his breath, he looked at Elanor's face.
She was glowing.
Worth every minute, Frodo thought. Every last minute.
"Shall we continue?" he asked aloud.
-the end-
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 01:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 05:51 pm (UTC)I love how accepting and eager Elanor is - something that the Frodo who left would never have known - and how entwined in the family life he is.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 06:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 10:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-26 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-26 01:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-27 01:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-07 06:54 pm (UTC)